Chapter 25
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: The Prayer
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Origin,
Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel (8)
“Cadet Isla, step forward.”
The first to be called was Isla, the third-ranked cadet of the 997th class. The observing instructors and smiths began to murmur.
“Lord Ryunel’s direct disciple?”
“Then there’s only one holy sword she could be aiming for.”
“The great hammer-type holy sword, Gaumris.”
And so it was. Isla, with an excited gait, headed to the far left.
The holy sword resting on the rack was a pale silver. It was a weapon that combined an axe, a spear, and a hammer. The right side of the shaft was a hammer, the left an axe blade, and the top was tipped with a spearhead.
Gaumris was a holy sword that dominated all planes, points, and lines.
「Child, pour forth your wish. And pray to the sword. The holy sword will answer.」
Kaisen watched Isla take a deep breath, her left fist clenched before her chest.
So that’s the sword’s prayer.
A FakeWarrior prays their wish to a holy sword, and the sword’s will resonates in response. He remembered Tarsiyo’s explanation.
- The prayer stays with a FakeWarrior for their entire life. It's by reciting the prayer that they can unleash the holy sword.
The deciding factor was whether a FakeWarrior candidate's wish aligned with the fickle will of the holy sword.
- I will kill you all.
To think that's what Camilla meant by the sword's prayer… how utterly bloodthirsty. It suited her, in a way.
“Isla prays to you, Gaumris.”
As Isla gripped her master's holy sword, a magnificent wave of sound spread through the hall. The holy sword, resonating with the compatible user's magic, creaked and cried out.
“The air is swirling…”
“No, it's emitting light, too…”
The waves of power emanating from Gaumris were heavy and long. The light it cast was ponderous, yet noble. Olier Dune Zeraye spoke.
“Kelly, what's the compatibility reading?”
“87%. That's incredibly high. There's no need to check any other holy swords.”
Succession of a holy sword is approved at 70% or higher, and a compatibility of 80% or more is considered a confirmation, making it unnecessary to even check other swords.
「Isla, that is enough. Gaumris is yours.」
Isla's hands trembled as she placed the Supreme Holy Sword Gaumris back on the rack.
Even with all eyes upon her.
Forgetting all decorum, Isla clenched both fists and hopped up and down adorably.
The joy of inheriting her master's holy sword coursed through her like a thrill, and even the dragons smiled with satisfaction.
“Congratulations, Isla.”
When she returned to the line of candidates, her best friend Seira patted her on the head. Isla beamed.
“You have to succeed too, Seira.”
Next, Seira, the top-ranked cadet of the 997th, inherited Solang, a longsword-type holy sword and her master's blade.
Compatibility: 89%.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn't her who made Kaisen's heart sink as a competitor, but the second-ranked Ophelia.
“Ooh, is that the cadet who beat Lord Ryunel's disciple for second place?”
“Isn't she the daughter of Marquis Crowell?”
“But skill and lineage don't guarantee the favor of a holy sword.”
Opinions were split…
But as she moved along the racks of holy swords, testing her compatibility with each, the opinions began to sway.
“Compatibility with Solang, 68%.”
“Compatibility with Gaumris, 69%.”
Kelly read the numbers appearing on the measurement magi-crystal.
Isla could be seen letting out a sigh of relief.
Like a young girl, her expressions were honest and open.
“Compatibility with Verumpeira… Huh, 77%.”
A gasp rippled through those watching the succession ceremony. For someone who wasn't a direct disciple, it was a remarkably high compatibility.
Supreme Holy Sword Verumpeira.
Its unique form was a snake sword.
A snake sword is a blade made of dozens of segments linked by metal pieces, allowing it to move like a serpent.
Its unique color was violet.
A dragon engraved on the violet-flashing blade danced on a wave of overwhelming power.
Since the previous wielder had died in battle along with their disciple, there was no need to wait to evaluate a direct disciple's compatibility.
“Will you also test your compatibility with Aradamanthel?”
“Of course.”
There was no hesitation in Ophelia's reply. Verumpeira was a fine sword, but it couldn't compare to Aradamanthel.
Aradamanthel was a symbol.
A symbol of the peace achieved by Raminea Alter Aradamanthel.
To inherit that sword was to become the symbol of peace itself.
“…”
Standing before the Supreme Holy Sword Aradamanthel, Ophelia glanced back at Kaisen.
Then, with a triumphant smile, she gripped its hilt.
The next moment.
“No…!”
“Such a brilliant light…!”
Hushed gasps erupted.
The exclamation that escaped Kelly's lips as she examined the measurement magi-crystal only heightened the shock.
“Compatibility: 82%.”
Raminea's 98% and Camilla's 91% had just been abnormally high.
82% was an incredibly high score.
Especially for someone who wasn't a direct disciple.
‘82%?’
Kaisen felt a pain as if his heart had stopped.
Aradamanthel.
Are you saying you'll choose her, not me?
“If Kaisen weren't the direct disciple, this would have settled it.”
Kelly Dune Zeraye nodded at Olier Dune Zeraye's words.
“Indeed. Ophelia's compatibility is 82%. If priority wasn't given for succession… Hmm.”
“Because Kaisen is the direct disciple, as long as he scores over 80%, he inherits it unconditionally, no matter how high the other person's score is.”
“But getting over 80% isn't easy… I wonder if Aradamanthel will be that generous to a man.”
Now, it was Kaisen's turn.
Kaisen walked diagonally to the right. Like a true disciple of a FakeWarrior, he didn't spare a single glance for the other holy swords.
“…”
He stopped, naturally, before the Supreme Holy Sword Aradamanthel, resting on its rack.
The sword's form was a tachi.
The scabbard and hilt were a noble, pure white like a snowfield in early winter, and the unique aura the sword faintly emitted was red.
「The son of Raminea Alter Aradamanthel.」
「And the disciple chosen by Camilla Alter Aradamanthel.」
「Indeed, what will happen…?」
A heavy silence descended.
As the cardinals conversed from their distant thrones, Kaisen simply stared up at Aradamanthel in silence for a long while.
Yoshar spoke.
「Pray your wish, child.」
What was my wish?
Kaisen once again just stared at the sword for a long time.
The wish wouldn't easily form in his mind.
‘Do I have to see beyond just killing?’
Ria, the disciple of Sharon Alter Tassalpo, had known and practiced her sword's prayer even before inheriting her holy sword. He regretted not asking her about it properly, and instead scoffing at it.
- Don't overthink it.
Kaisen mulled over the advice Tarsiyo had given him.
- What do you want to achieve with that holy sword… Just desire that with all your heart.
The remains of his master, hanging from his neck.
The memento of his mother, worn at his waist.
For some reason, these two items felt as heavy as lead, dragging him down.
- Kai, how do you want to use this sword?
What.
What was it I wanted to do?
As he lifted the holy sword from the rack, he was suddenly reminded of the cackling laughter of the stars on the night his mother died, and the fishy smell of the monsoon rain that had poured down mockingly on the day his master died.
- Really? That's a relief…
The laughter was so clear and pure that it brought to mind the smile of his mother, who always laughed while holding her son in her arms.
And he remembered the tears of his master, who had smiled on the dawn of his death, longing for that same smile.
- Mom, I'm leaving now…
The salty taste of the tears he shed on the night he buried his mother mixed with the salty taste of the tears he shed on the morning he burned his master.
- Let's take him… to the Commander's side…
He remembered the misery of the tears that had welled up in Wolf's eyes after losing the woman he loved, soaking the shoulders of the boy he embraced.
I know.
I know all too well.
That in this miserable world, death is strewn about like garbage, and that no matter how many you cut down, one death cannot bring back another.
That in death, there is no equivalent exchange.
However.
Even so.
Even if it means staining the southern lands, where my burned and broken home lies, with blood, and piling up mountains of corpses.
This rage.
These tears.
This vengeance.
I wish to repay it in kind, with blood.
“I pray to you, Aradamanthel.”
The boy drew the holy sword.
Wooooo… The slowly drawn blade cried out like a beast.
The crowd felt a searing pain in their eyes from the divine radiance that erupted from the blade.
“How can this be…?”
In that wondrous explosion of light, everyone stared wide-eyed, utterly lost.
‘To think it's bright enough to illuminate even the shadows in the corners of the temple…?’
‘It's not that the boy wants Aradamanthel.’
‘It's that Aradamanthel wants the boy…?’
The blade was a pure, immaculate red.
The blade pulsed, shooting waves of light in all directions, and those touched by its breath of power felt the sword's indignation run down their spines like a terrifying chill.
“Kelly, what's the magi-crystal's reading?”
Olier asked, dumbfounded.
Kelly, who had been squinting at the illusion floating above the compatibility measurement magi-crystal, couldn't believe her eyes.
“Head Instructor, it's immeasurable.”
“What?”
“Look, the magi-crystal just cracked during the measurement… This is the first time this has happened since the Sword Sanctum's founding.”
At that moment, Kaisen held Aradamanthel's blade vertically before his eyes.
The holy sword sang quietly.
The blade seemed to whisper, telling him to cut down every enemy that lay at the vanishing point of its tip.
「Wasn't it like this when Raminea held Aradamanthel?」
Cardinal Parem said.
But Cardinal Yoshar shook his head.
「No… this is on a level that cannot even be compared. A holy sword has never craved someone so intensely.」
Yoshar thought.
The blood of a hero cannot be denied, can it, Raminea.
It seems even Aradamanthel desires vengeance for you and your disciple…
“…”
The form of a flame that burns the Abyss flickered and danced within the blade.
Seeing that form, a lump formed in his throat.
It was the sword of his mother, who had loved her son more than any treasure in the world. It was the sword of his master, whose expressions of affection had been clumsy and harsh.
‘You chose me, too…’
He tried to imagine how his mother and master must have felt when they received this holy sword, but the thought wouldn't coalesce.
As he sheathed the blade he had been gazing at for so long back into its pure white scabbard, he had the illusion that the world had momentarily gone dark.
Perhaps overwhelmed by the holy sword's cry, no one dared to speak.
Not until Cardinal Inrahit, one of the five pillars seated on the thrones, rose his great draconian body.
「With this, the choice of the holy swords is known. Those who have been chosen as Warriors, step forward in turn.」
The first to step forward was Isla, chosen by the Supreme Holy Sword Gaumris.
「Isla Deris, disciple of Ryunel Alter Gaumris. Will you cast aside your past, present, and future, and walk the path of the Warrior as Gaumris leads?」
“Isla will walk it!”
「Seira Slateon, disciple of Aresia Alter Solang. Will you sever ties with your past, take Solang in hand, and walk the path of the Warrior?」
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
「Ophelia Crowell, daughter of Kevan Crowell. Will you cast aside your past, wealth, and lineage, take Verumpeira in hand, and walk the path of the Warrior?」
Ophelia's answer was delayed.
Her gaze, flitting between the Supreme Holy Sword Verumpeira and the Supreme Holy Sword Aradamanthel, fell upon Kaisen.
‘Aradamanthel, to a man…’
The outcome was so clear there was no room for reconsideration. Haa, in her swallowed sigh, her tone as she made her vow before the cardinal was tinged with regret.
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
Finally, Inrahit's gaze fell upon Kaisen.
In days past, Inrahit had advised the Light Dragon that military discipline must be upheld by executing the family of the deserter, Raminea.
However, Yoshar had prevented it, prostrating himself and pleading.
- I beg you, do not forget the contribution of Raminea, who sacrificed her life to make spring flowers bloom in this land.
And at that time.
Yoshar had appealed that Raminea's flesh and blood might surely bring about some change in this world of tears.
‘Indeed… I shall watch to the very end to see what mission this child, for whom you gave even what little life you had left, will accomplish. Yoshar.’
As Inrahit remained silent, lost in thought, Yoshar, who had been sitting quietly on his throne suppressing his shivers, spoke in his stead.
And he asked.
The very same question asked of his master, and of his mother, when they took up their holy swords and became Warriors.
「Kaisen, disciple of Camilla Alter Aradamanthel.」
Watching the scene, Olier felt a poignant sorrow well up in his heart and clenched his fists tightly.
- A disciple? Why would I take in trash like that? I'm better off alone.
He recalled Camilla, who had always said that during their days at the Sword Sanctum, and the day of the investiture ceremony when they had parted ways.
- Still, if I ever get one of those things, I'll send them to you.
- What?
- You know it too. With a personality as shitty as mine, how could I possibly educate anyone properly?
- Heh, you know yourself well.
- Sharon, you shut your mouth. But Olier, you're annoying, but you're diligent. You'd teach them well, wouldn't you?
Camilla had then hesitated, as if embarrassed, before holding out her hand. Olier taking it had been his final farewell to his old friend.
‘Camilla, are you watching…?’
I don't know who it was that said they'd never take a disciple no matter what…
‘Today, this very day… your disciple inherited your sword and became a Warrior.’
As Olier Dune Zeraye wiped away the tears welling in his eyes amidst the echoes of the past, Yoshar continued to speak.
「Will you swear to cast aside your past, present, and future, and walk the path of the Warrior as Aradamanthel leads?」
Kaisen's answer was swift.
For that answer had been decided five years ago, when he had buried his mother's body and planted an acorn while weeping.
To cut, and cut again…
To forge a path with the corpses of his enemies…
From the day my mother died, perhaps I have been praying to you, Aradamanthel.
“I will, without fail, see the end of that path.”
And so, the age of war began anew in the boy's life.
***
“Kaisen.”
After the investiture ceremony, as he was leaving the Papal Office with his orders for the front lines, Olier Dune Zeraye came to see him off.
Their conversation was not long.
Olier looked Kaisen up and down, as if overcome with emotion, then placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Because of your unique way of using dragon spirit, you'll be assigned to another FakeWarrior's corps rather than leading your own.”
“I've been informed. I'm being assigned to the Black Rose Corps and sent to the eastern front, for now.”
“Yes, I confirmed it. First under Camilla, now under Sharon. You sure have terrible luck.”
Kaisen's changed physique and attire sent a fresh thrill through Olier.
The quilted armor, designed for mobility.
The majesty of Aradamanthel, worn on the hanger of his sword belt.
His entire appearance was so much like Camilla's when she had left this place.
“If Camilla saw you now, she would have been incredibly proud. Though, true to her dishonest nature, her way of expressing it would have been outrageously violent.”
The name Camilla was an inviolable, sacred bond connecting Olier and Kaisen.
With that single bond, that brief word, they could share the memories themselves, transcending mere joy and sorrow.
He couldn't stop his expression from crumbling, his head from bowing, under the wave of sorrow that washed over him.
“I was glad to have been able to personally instruct Camilla's disciple. I've sent many children from here to their deaths with nothing but empty rhetoric… but I don't think any day has been as difficult as today.”
“Instructor.”
“Don't make that face. Smile. A FakeWarrior needs to know how to smile. It's how you tell everyone not to worry. Here, try smiling like this.”
“…”
“Still too hard? You'll get the hang of it with practice. Unless you want to spend your whole life scowling like Camilla. You'll get wrinkles that way, you know?”
He couldn't help but give a bitter smile.
He had no other choice.
Just then, the whistle of a steamship pierced the air from the distant harbor.
“Well, it's time for you to go. If you get the chance, say hello to that insidious wench Sharon for me.”
Kaisen, the young man who had grown taller than the head instructor, gave a sharp salute.
“I will never forget the grace you've shown me, teaching me with all your heart for the past half-year. Please, stay well.”
And with a hand on the hilt of Aradamanthel, he turned away, whispering to himself.
Alright, let's go.
Back into the summer.