Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Mother's Breath
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"What is aura?"
"It's your mother's breath."
"Where is aura?"
"In the air, the water, the fire... and right beside you."
The Gray Wolf's teachings were abstract.
Depending on how one interpreted them, they might never take shape at all.
But that wasn't meant as a trial—it was simply the true nature of aura.
No matter how hard you tried to grasp it, it moved on its own, vast and self-aware like nature itself.
Sniff, sniff.
Snow-Covered wrinkled her nose.
The misty scent of fog rolling in from the deep mountains mingled with the smell of grass, clearing her mind.
This time, she extended her hands while sitting.
Moist earth, damp from the spring rains, slipped between her fingers, tickling her skin.
Her heart felt at ease.
Born in the North, Snow-Covered felt all of nature around her like her own home.
"Wasting time on nonsense again?"
But in that instant, an irritating voice like dried barley ears rained down from right above her head.
Today, too, Barley Ear had come looking for a fight while the Gray Wolf was away.
"You know what this is, right? Terman root—the village administrator dug it up special for me. He said there's nothing better for awakening aura."
When the Gray Wolf was around, the kid put on every act of kindness imaginable. But left alone like this, he always showed his true colors.
Snow-Covered wasn't in a position to tattle, though, so today, as always, she endured Barley Ear's bullying with quiet resolve.
Crunch, crunch.
As if to show off how beloved he was by the villagers, Barley Ear munched away at the precious Terman root with relish.
True to form, he pestered her with words, mocking Snow-Covered as she meditated after sword training.
"You really think that crap helps? You'd be better off swinging your sword one more time instead of wasting time on it."
Ignore him. Just ignore him.
Her master had said meditation helped organize one's energy, and the Gray Wolf had agreed it wasn't a bad practice after hearing about it.
Even if her aura training lagged behind this insolent brat's, she couldn't let jealousy or anger disrupt this peaceful state of mind.
With that thought, the ripples in her heart began to settle back into calm.
"...Hmph."
Barley Ear, who had been watching her for a while, let out a small scoff when his taunts failed to land again.
But while his face pretended nonchalance, inside he was boiling.
Kids his age usually fell for provocations and got themselves in trouble.
Barley Ear had always exploited that well and assumed Snow-Covered would be no different.
Yet she treated him like he wasn't even worth acknowledging, mature beyond her years.
As if she knew exactly who held the advantage in any fight here.
Having planned to provoke her into starting a quarrel, Barley Ear secretly broke out in a cold sweat.
"You did well today."
But before he could try anything, the Gray Wolf returned to the training ground. He'd stepped out briefly to hunt dinner for his disciples.
"Ah, Master! You're back!"
Barley Ear, who had been grinding his teeth in fury, instantly switched to a beaming smile.
He sidled up next to Snow-Covered, greeting the master warmly like they were best friends.
The Gray Wolf asked,
"Meditating, were you?"
"Yes! I've been learning a lot from Snow-Covered."
"Mm. Good."
He'd been deeply disappointed and worried when he'd caught Barley Ear getting physical before.
But since then, it seemed the boy had learned his lesson—they'd been getting along without major conflicts.
The Gray Wolf's face lit up with rare satisfaction as he held food in both arms and said,
"Good work today. Head back to the lodging after cleaning up the training ground. I'll make something tasty tonight."
"Yes!"
"Yes."
Three days had already passed since they began training in these deep mountains.
The path back from the training ground was starting to feel familiar.
The Gray Wolf, loaded with gear, headed toward the lodging first.
Barley Ear and Snow-Covered bowed to his retreating back, ending the day's lesson.
Clatter.
Swoosh, swoosh.
A quick sweep, and they'd be done.
The diligent Snow-Covered fetched a broom from the shed and began sweeping the messy training ground.
Barley Ear, meanwhile, lounged about watching her, arms behind his head.
Cleaning? For someone who despised dirt that much, it was out of the question.
Reclining on a soft patch of grass, he began chattering aimlessly.
"Master's so old-fashioned. Who cares where we train? Everyone's born with different talents anyway."
"........."
"Ahh, I just wanna go back to the village already. Even Master's awful cooking is something I could pass on now."
She couldn't talk back anyway.
Barley Ear treated Snow-Covered like a mute he could vent to freely, unloading his true thoughts without restraint.
For someone always playing the good guy, she was a convenient target—like talking to himself.
What a repulsive, two-faced punk.
His prattling mouth was like a demon's, insulting their master no better than treason.
But even a privy has its limits—
Even excrement has a line that shouldn't be crossed.
"You know, you're pretty pitiful. The master you finally get is Broken Sword, of all people. Why not just admit it now and come train under our master instead..."
Clack, shing!
It happened in an instant.
Both Barley Ear's rude slip about Broken Sword and Snow-Covered's reaction to hearing it.
She'd endured any insult to herself without flinching, but the moment her master was disrespected, she drew her sword without a second's hesitation.
"Wh-what?"
It was too fast to see.
Barley Ear fumbled to draw his own sword too late—Snow-Covered's sharp blade was already hovering right at his throat.
This was no mere threat.
The calm, composed Snow-Covered was gone, replaced by an incarnation of rage.
Vmmm—!
The sword tip hummed in resonance.
One twitch, and his head would roll—he'd become a ghost wandering forever.
Barley Ear's voice trembled as he spoke.
"Wh-what are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"
A tongue leaves no mark when lashed about, unlike a sword.
And from childhood, Barley Ear had mastered that difference, using his sharp tongue to demean and wound countless people.
But Snow-Covered defied that common sense.
One keen blade silenced a hundred words, sealing his mouth.
Snow-Covered spoke.
"Apologize."
"P-pointing a sword at me...? You gonna kill me? You forget where we are?"
He clung to his backup, begging for his life—a childish threat that burned his own face with shame.
But Barley Ear was that desperate; he didn't care about badmouthing his master.
Strike me here, and his master would kill her.
No sane person would make such a reckless choice.
Right? No insane person would...
"You done talking?"
Barley Ear didn't know.
What kind of life Snow-Covered had lived to reach this point, or what the word "master" truly meant to this child.
The fire in her eyes didn't fade.
No—it blazed fiercer, urging the blade at his throat to move.
Snow-Covered swung the sword she held aimed at his neck.
"Wait! My bad! I spoke out of turn without thinking!"
Thud.
The blade halted.
Sensing she'd truly meant to kill him, Barley Ear surrendered at last.
Snow-Covered stared down at him with eyes like an icy downpour.
Even though he'd trained in aura, victory seemed impossible.
Thump.
Having barely saved his neck with a quick apology, Barley Ear collapsed to the ground.
He clenched his fists in humiliated fury, head bowed like a whipped dog.
Damn it. Couldn't even fight back.
Twice now, he'd paid for his loose tongue, swallowing his resentment without knowing what went wrong.
Clack.
Snow-Covered sheathed her drawn sword.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she picked up the broom and resumed sweeping.
Lonely yet fierce, that figure endured even her solitude with grit.
She pulled a sweet snack from her pocket and popped it into her mouth.
Munch, munch.
A treat sent by her master via messenger pigeon.
No matter how many rare elixirs he bragged about, nothing was more precious than this.
* * *
"Heh! How's that, bro? Tough, huh?"
A bearded patrolman chuckled beside me as we climbed the rugged mountain path.
But his laugh wasn't mockery—it was playful teasing born of genuine concern.
"This much? Piece of cake."
"Must've been quite the player back in your youth."
"Haha."
Most villagers were young or slash-and-burn folk, so few recognized my changed appearance.
The Gray Wolf wasn't one to spread word, and I hated the hassles fame brought anyway.
Thanks to that, I'd become "Person 1," the new recruit filling a patrol spot, bantering freely with folks I hadn't seen in ages.
"Hey! You've been bugging him nonstop! The old man's not having it!"
"Oi, this is just guy banter. You butt out—don't be so oblivious."
My assigned patrol was a small squad of four.
One had retired mid-route last time, so I'd jumped in to fill the gap.
Despite worries, there was no hazing—everyone treated me warmly.
I laughed along with the squad as we ascended, glancing back at them.
The bearded guy who'd spoken: Little Bear.
His childhood friend and squad leader, the woman: Orchid Flower.
And the good-hearted mute from a childhood illness: Non-Crying Bird.
Each with their quirks and strong personalities, they kept work from ever getting boring.
As I laughed, an even more excited Little Bear sidled up close.
"By the way, bro—that sword. You actually swing that thing? Looks a pain to handle."
I'd brought no gear, just the squad's basic leather armor and a spear slightly bigger than my shoulders.
But personal weapons were allowed, so I'd strapped on my sword. They found it fascinating.
The lineage of Northern Swordsmanship truly had faded.
I addressed the squad members stealing glances.
"Feel free to touch it."
"F-for real?"
Iron was scarce in the North; only high ranks or knight trainees got to handle a "decent" sword.
So when I unbuckled and offered the scabbard, they crowded around mid-stride.
"Ooh... No joke."
"Plain sheath, but that edge is killer."
That was the difference between a village with a master smith or not.
I smiled contentedly, grateful once more for my friendship with Red Iron.
"Sigh. When do we get new gear? Here, thanks for the look."
A fine sword was valuable treasure.
Tempting as it was, honest Little Bear returned it without hesitation.
Once Snow-Covered's training ended, maybe include quality weapons in village trade goods.
I rebuckled the scabbard at my side and hurried on with the squad.
"—!"
But then, Non-Crying Bird—who'd been eyeing my sword—jerked her head up in shock.
She flailed like a spooked foal, at a loss.
Mute but sharp-eared, she served as the squad's sentry.
She'd definitely heard something.
Orchid Flower asked urgently,
"Heard something? Where?"
"—!"
In these barren mountains, anyone not from our village was foe or threat.
Even a single sound demanded swift reaction.
Non-Crying Bird began mimicking an animal, waving her arms wildly.
Awoooo.
A beast howling at the sky.
A wolf?