Chapter 77
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 77
Translation: godsn
It was an impossibility, yet he couldn't bear the thought of her smiling at someone else.
He wanted her to smile in his arms, for him. He wanted to be the one who made her happy. He wanted her to be his alone. The surging greed clenched at his chest like a vise. His fingertips tingled.
[What's been wrong with you since earlier?]
The Holy Sword asked as if something was off. Yurien swept back his flowing hair and steadied his breath. The exhale came out hot as a beast's. Raw, bloody emotions raged wildly within him.
He understood her better than anyone in this world. He could do more for her than anyone else. He could live for her. How could anyone who knew nothing of her greatness, who remained ignorant of the wounds she carried, ever hope to make her happy? Therefore, shouldn't that sun belong to him?
It was irrational. Unreasonable. There was the voice of reason judging him insane, and the snarling, unreasonable desires that drowned it out. Emotions tangled into a turbid mess. What was this? Since when had such a monstrous thing existed inside him? His throat felt parched as a desert. Yurien muttered in a cracked voice.
"The more I think about her... the more I feel like I'm losing my mind."
A memory surfaced—something Dietrich had once said in passing. How he wished no other men would exist near the woman he loved. How even close female friends would irritate him. Only now did those words make sense.
What had Dietrich said then? That it was the talk of a madman. That love was inherently like madness, Dietrich had retorted. Then what did that make him now, when he felt so clearly unhinged?
"Am I... in love with her?"
The Holy Sword made a strange noise—something between a groan, a click of the tongue, and a choked breath. After a long silence, it spoke as if astonished.
[You mean to tell me you've been agonizing over something this obvious all along?]
"How can you be so certain?"
[You've changed.]
Yurien blankly stared down at his palm. In the darkness, golden patterns flickered faintly before fading.
[...I'm a sword, so human emotions aren't my forte. But speaking from centuries of observing humans—]
The Holy Sword sighed deeply.
[Humans don't change easily. Especially not when that change is for someone else rather than themselves. In all my time, I've only ever seen humans change for others when they're in love.]
"Changed... you say."
[Yes. Why do you think I warned you against getting entangled with her? Humans transform at breakneck speed when they fall in love. Do you have any idea how powerful that force is? It can turn a paragon of justice—someone worthy of wielding me—into a revenge-obsessed murderer in a single night.]
"......"
[Look at you. You've already changed. You're changing. And the reason is her. What was it you told me? That change was inevitable? That it'd be stranger not to change after meeting her? Ha! If that's not love, then what is, you fool?]
The Holy Sword admonished him with palpable exasperation. Yurien pressed trembling fingers to his forehead. A storm raged in his heart. Could this chaotic tangle of emotions truly be defined by a single word—love? Was it really that simple?
Langiosa continued in a resigned tone.
[That's why I tried so hard to stop you. Not that I've ever succeeded before, and clearly failed this time too. But if something so easily prevented, it wouldn't be such a formidable emotion.]
"...Is it normal to want to possess her completely?"
[Humans typically grow possessive when in love. Hmm... Thoughts are free, but don't act against justice. I'd very much prefer you remain my wielder until your natural end.]
The Holy Sword's grumbling barely registered in his ears. Even this desire was love? That he was in love with her? The newly realized emotion took shape and pressed down on his limbs. His breathing grew labored.
When he steadied his breath and thought it through slowly, the realization was long overdue. If he had truly respected her purely and only wished for her happiness, he should have withdrawn the moment he realized she was uncomfortable around Baraha.
But he hadn't. He didn't rescind the squire appointment, clinging to the excuse that the decision had already been made. He kept circling around her. He felt desire when he looked at her, regretted assigning Baraha as her instructor, practiced smiling in the mirror just because she seemed slightly more at ease, and desperately wished she would smile at him instead.
"Ha..."
What an utter fool. The moment Yurien let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, movement sounded at the entrance of the barracks. Someone carefully pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside.
Echinacea Roaz.
Yurien stiffened completely. She, too, froze, seemingly unaware he was inside. In the darkness, they recognized each other's presence and held their breaths.
[What impeccable timing.]
The Holy Sword's muttering shattered the silence. Yurien barely snapped back to his senses. Fumbling, he reached for the lamp. Once lit, he looked at her. Echinacea's face was pale, but the crimson glow of the flame made it seem feverish.
"Cadet Echinacea."
Her figure stood in his barracks, half-submerged in flickering light and shadow. Considering what he had just been thinking, he half-wondered if this was an illusion. There was no reason for her to seek him out. In those few seconds, countless assumptions flashed through his mind—all of them absurd.
For example, that she had come to talk about the erased past. Among those fleeting thoughts were even lustful imaginings. Yurien was shocked at himself for entertaining them. He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes directly, his gaze flickering away before he finally managed to look at her.
"...What brings you here?"
Echinacea took a deep breath, then extended what she was holding in her arms toward him.
"I came... to return this. I'm sorry it's so late."
Return? Return what? Yurien stared at what she offered before belatedly realizing—it was the deep blue cloak he had draped over her at the fountain. He stepped closer and took it from her.
She came just to return this? Assuming I wouldn't be here.
Every assumption he had made was, indeed, ridiculous. Yurien stared blankly at the neatly folded cloak. She didn't have to return it. Still, wasn't it nice to see her face again, even if just for this?
Then it struck him—Echinacea hadn't left yet. If she had come just to return the cloak, she could have left immediately after. Why was she still here? Did she have something else to say?
Maybe the cloak was just an excuse. Maybe there was another purpose. Hope surged in him. Even trivial conversation would be welcome. A simple question would delight him. He just wanted to be a little closer. Disappointed just moments ago, he found himself hoping again.
Yurien lowered his eyes, conflicted. His skin prickled with tension. He chewed over his words several times before finally asking, hesitantly:
"Did you come... just to return this?"
"...Yes."
Echinacea's answer was brief. His spirits deflated. Then he found himself pathetic. What had he even been expecting? Self-loathing welled up—until she spoke again.
"Ah, about the medicine and ginger tea last time... Thank you."
"...Did they help you?"
"Yes. Immensely."
He raised his head and looked at her. Her expression had softened. So they had helped her. Even if just a little, they had helped.
That single phrase sent his plummeting mood soaring abruptly upward. A smile rose to his lips unbidden. Whenever he'd practiced before a mirror, it had always felt awkward, but before her, laughter came with surprising ease. He only needed to let his genuine feelings guide him.
Echinacea stared at him as if entranced before startling and averting her gaze.
"My apologies, Captain. I should take my leave now."
"Cadet Echinacea, wait."
Yurien reflexively reached to stop her. He moved to grasp her shoulder but hesitated when she paused, ultimately lowering his hand without touching her. Having called out to her, his mind went blank. He'd stopped her on impulse simply because he wanted to stay together a little longer, but now had nothing prepared to say. Forced to improvise, he fumbled for words.
"Have you ever faced monsters before?"
"I wouldn't say I haven't."
An ambiguous answer. Yurien sighed faintly. Through Langiosa's memories, he'd seen Echinacea grow increasingly adept at handling monsters, yet it was clear she'd never received proper training about them. Her methods were all learned through brutal experience—experience that invariably came with injuries.
"Many monsters have peculiar ecologies. Battling them differs greatly from fighting humans. Have you studied such matters?"
"...To some extent."
"That's... fortunate then..."
She was lying about having studied them. Though she had little choice but to lie. Yurien swallowed down the worries rising in his throat. Instead, he mechanically recited the Subjugation Squad's predetermined schedule from their meeting. At the end, a sliver of unchecked concern slipped out.
"I don't doubt your swordsmanship... but monsters are unpredictable creatures. Please take care not to stray far from my side."
As Zenith's successor, she was vastly stronger than him. Yet that didn't make her invincible. He never wanted to see her injured again. She'd already suffered more than enough.
"You... don't doubt my swordsmanship? Have you seen me wield a blade before?"
Echinacea turned back to ask. Her eyes wavered uneasily. A misstep—he should have pretended ignorance. Mentally berating himself, Yurien hastily fabricated an excuse.
"I watched you during the cadet selection exams. And I know your duel rankings. You're exceptional."
Had she bought it? He anxiously studied her expression. After a brief silence, she answered slowly.
"Thank you for the high praise."
"Still, be cautious. Monsters differ from humans."
"Yes, I'll be careful."
She seemed to accept it for now. Barely relieved, he met her gaze. When their eyes locked, he could physically feel his pulse quicken. Her cheeks, appearing flushed as if warmed by candlelight. The delicate skin at the corners of her eyes. Staring made him want to touch, so he retreated slightly. Part of him wanted to prolong even this meaningless conversation just to stay together, but in this state, he feared making worse mistakes.
"Then... you should return and rest."
"But, Captain."
She called him to a halt. His heart seemed to drop. When he hesitated to speak, only offering a glance, Echinacea bit her lip slightly before asking:
"Why did you return to the barracks but not even light a candle?"
It was an unanswerable question. He could hardly tell her that he'd been thinking about her so obsessively—wishing she were his, wondering whether only he deserved to have her—that he'd only just realized he loved her and had forgotten to light the lamp entirely.