Chapter 104
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 104
Translation: godsn
[You wouldn't have liked it...]
"Shut the hell up if you know, damn Magic Sword."
She had to assume the Magic Sword wouldn't misjudge something as critical as murder. The tension drained from her stiffened shoulders. After all, if she'd truly killed ten people, there was no way she'd have woken up so peacefully.
'If I didn't kill anyone, why did the accumulated bloodlust decrease?'
Was that even possible? Had she been corrupted? Or not? Just what had happened? Echinacea rested her chin on her propped knee and glared at empty air.
Yurien had emphatically insisted nothing had happened to her. Yes—'emphatically.' She mentally reviewed every answer he'd ever given her, recalling even how he'd reacted when her status as a Master was discovered.
Answers that were plausible. No—answers she 'wanted' to believe. The responses that aligned with what she desperately hoped were true. Explanations that somehow kept her from being exposed in situations where discovery seemed inevitable. Words that brought comfort and reassurance when accepted at face value. As if he knew exactly what she feared most.
The sheet clenched in her fist crumpled into a messy wad. Echinacea roughly swept back the hair cascading across the wrinkled fabric.
The biggest reason she'd chosen to believe those convenient answers was simple—Yurien didn't hate her. She'd assumed that if he knew she was the Magic Sword's wielder, he would naturally expose and despise her. Since he didn't, she concluded he must be ignorant.
She revised her premise. What if—just what if—he knew everything? What if he was fully aware she wielded the Magic Sword yet still didn't hate her? What if he'd even confessed his feelings knowing all of it?
'That's impossible.'
This alternative made even less sense. Wasn't this precisely the too-good-to-be-true explanation she 'wanted' to believe? That Yurien could know she'd been a demon yet still not despise her? That he might even care for her? Was that possible?
She'd dismissed this assumption as unthinkable from the start. For the first time, Echinacea reexamined all of Yurien's words and actions through this new lens.
"Ugh..."
A heavy, searing sensation plunged deep into her chest. Heat flooded her cheeks and ears—more profound than the fluttering heartbeat when she first realized her feelings. Something weighty hammered noisily against the depths of her heart. Burying her forehead against her knees, her face burned crimson.
It couldn't be. I killed you. I destroyed everything you loved. And yet? The questions reverberated through her buzzing mind—the same ones she'd asked herself countless times, always receiving the same answers.
'Of course he'd hate me for what I did.' That unshakable conviction was crumbling.
He doesn't hate me for my crimes. He might know everything and still care for me.
It was dizzying. Maddening. An indescribable emotion rampaged through her mind and chest. The confusion overwhelmed her—she wanted to burst into tears.
The door opened. Yurien had returned.
Echinacea didn't lift her head. His footsteps made no sound—he moved with silent elegance. Instead, she heard the clatter of dishes and spoons on a tray. The creak of the low chair beside her bed. The lid being removed from a bowl. A savory aroma tickled her nose. Then came his voice—quiet, firm, yet tender.
"Echinacea."
The way he pronounced her name held such affection that a tear welled up. Buried as she was, it didn't fall but soaked into the sheet covering her knees instead. Slowly, she raised her head. Yurien, holding the tray, startled slightly. His typically composed face flickered with alarm and concern as he urgently asked—
"Are you in pain? If something's wrong, don't hold back—tell me."
"...No, it's nothing."
Even to her own ears, her voice didn't sound fine. The already subdued tone was thoroughly drenched in moisture. Yurien hastily set the tray on the bedside table and reached out in a fluster. A cold hand touched her forehead. He checked for fever, examined her carefully, and his gaze briefly landed on her right palm before flitting away. He'd noticed the spot where the Magic Sword's mark was thinly concealed beneath gloves.
Ah. Really.
Do you truly know? And yet show no sign of it?
Why? Because I... wanted to hide it?
The words he'd spoken when he caught her trying to flee after her Master status was revealed inside the Node resurfaced in this moment.
<If you wish to hide it, I'll help you conceal it. If you desire, I'll strive to forget it as well.>
Is that truly the reason? To this extent? Why don't you hate me? Why do you like me? What am I to you?
Eki looked at the bandages covering his neck. Her fingertips twitched with the urge to unravel them and see what lay beneath. She was certain there was something other than wounds from debris scratches. But instead of moving her hand, she clutched the sheets.
"Lord."
Yurien gazed at her with a worried expression. Meanwhile, the sunset faded and twilight claimed their surroundings. Even in the dim room, he faintly glowed. To her eyes, he stood out vividly as if shining.
"Do you truly like me?"
It was a sudden question. As if those words were a spell, Yurien's face flushed red. Seemingly flustered, he rubbed his heated face with his hand, lowered his gaze, then looked at her again before answering slowly.
"Yes, sincerely."
"Even if I'm not the person you think I am?"
"How do you suppose I perceive you?"
Yurien countered with a slight smile. Caught off guard by the unexpected retort, Eki blinked blankly. Her mouth moved on its own, spouting whatever came to mind.
"...A coveted genius?"
He burst into laughter. Only then did Eki realize what she'd just said, and her face turned crimson. She buried her face back into her knees. The sound of Yurien barely suppressing his laughter reached her ears. He spoke with lingering mirth in his voice.
"I rarely laugh like this, Echinacea."
His words made her even more embarrassed. Watching her unable to lift her head, Yurien continued slowly.
"Certainly, your talent is covetable. To the point where one might think the gods created you to show humanity what the pinnacle of swordsmanship looks like."
"......"
"Frankly, I wish others could also recognize how extraordinary you are. Because of you, the history of the sword will be rewritten."
This was the first time she'd received such direct praise to her face. Let alone hearing words bordering on worship from a man who stood at the apex of knighthood.
Before regression, her talent had been a curse, a nightmare. After regression, she'd been too busy hiding it. So she'd never experienced anything like this.
Even if she'd openly boasted about recognizing her own talent, having someone else—especially him—acknowledge her swordsmanship so unabashedly felt entirely different. Even for Eki, who couldn't wholeheartedly love either the sword or her innate talent, it wasn't a bad feeling at all. No, rather...
She buried her face even deeper, her cheeks burning beyond redness. His voice continued calmly.
"That talent led me to know you, and it brought you and me together. However... the reason I came to love you is not because of that talent."
Yurien was grateful for her talent. Had Echinacea not been a once-in-a-generation genius, she would have been just another victim of the Magic Sword. The Empire would have executed her, and they never would have met. He might have never known that the reason she was entangled in conspiracies and sacrificed was because of him. Her talent saved her.
But if she had been nothing more than her talent, everything would have ended in that catastrophic conclusion. She might have become an unstoppable calamity, spawning only death. There would have been no new opportunity, no second life. Only because it was her—and no one else—who possessed that overwhelming talent, did all these moments exist.
"Because of you, I've felt emotions that are entirely unfamiliar to me, so it's difficult to explain them properly... But one thing is certain."
From the moment he saw that light struggling alone in the swamp, to now, when that light had become a blinding sun. From the moment she wailed before the Holy Sword and called his name, to rewinding time and meeting again in the place where everything had ended, all the way until now.
"You move me. My emotions, my desires, my goals, and many other things—they all moved because of you."
Because everything about him had begun moving due to her. Because she had become the reason.
"Echinacea. That is what you mean to me."
Eki slowly lifted her head and looked at him. The man who had spoken those words as calmly as if handing his life over to her met her gaze and smiled. Reflexively, naturally, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—a melting, dazzling smile, his eyes glimmering as if they might dissolve.
The heavy weight that had settled deep in her chest moments ago surged up her throat. Words failed her. The heat clogging her throat transferred to her head, burning fiercely.
She wanted to confess everything. The guilt she had never spoken of to anyone, had never once given voice to. It felt as though even if she laid it bare, those eyes of his wouldn't crack. Right now, looking at him, it seemed she had nothing left to fear.
In the time she had erased herself, in the days when only Yurien had waited for her victory, she had endured, piling up all the words she wanted to say to him inside her heart.
They were words she had never been able to say before tragedy struck. Every time she gazed at the Holy Sword she couldn't wield while gathering Giosa, new words had piled on top. And after rewinding time, even more words had accumulated. Now, those words—crushed under the weight of guilt—burst through the collapsed walls of fear and surged forth.
"Lord, I..."
Just as she, as if enchanted, was about to part her lips—a knock shattered the space between them.
"Squire Baraha Islaf. I've brought a message from the Lord."
The things that had crumbled inside her snapped back at the sound. She came to her senses. Eki turned her head with a flustered expression. Yurien was silent for a moment before responding in a low voice.
"Wait a moment, Baraha."
He picked up the tray resting on the side table and handed it to Eki. In a daze, she accepted it. Warm soup, soft bread, and a few pieces of fruit were neatly arranged.
"Eat, then rest again. If this place is uncomfortable, you may return to the dormitory. Even though you've received treatment, your body is still exhausted. At least for the next few days, don't push yourself."
Despite the stiffness in his tone, it sounded endlessly tender. He rose from his seat and headed toward the door. Her gaze followed his movements instinctively. Only after Yurien stepped outside did Eki's eyes creakily shift back to the tray.
"...What do I do?"
[Why?]
"I want to believe."
She had nearly bared everything to him just now. It felt like she could. Maybe he already knew. And then, she wanted to answer what he meant to her, too.
Was it really okay? It felt as though things she had once believed she could never hold were now resting in the palm of her hand. All she had to do was grasp them.