Chapter 82
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 82
Translation: godsn
His eyes had changed. There was no stopping him now. The Holy Sword quickly resigned itself.
[Speaking as Langiosa, it's not quite an evil act. As long as the limbs remain intact, that is.]
As long as they were left alive with all their limbs, it was acceptable. That's what it meant. Yurien picked up the report again and examined the remaining pages.
The latter pages contained a list of involved cadets. Five in total, including Bread. Comparing it with the Noblesse Club structure Baraha had uncovered, they weren't the club's core members. And on the very last page, there was an additional fact attached about Bread—something discovered incidentally during the investigation.
Officer cadets were prohibited from keeping personal servants or maids. However, a small number of noble-born cadets secretly employed personal attendants. Bread was one of them, and it appeared his personal maid had recently run away in the middle of the night. Though the exact circumstances were unknown, it was noted that he likely laid hands on the maid.
[This one's truly rotten to the core.]
The Holy Sword clicked its tongue in disapproval. Yurien read that part with an icy expression. A plan had formed.
He restrained himself from confronting them directly. Though he had never once acted out of emotional violence before, he wasn't confident he could maintain his composure in front of those who had attempted such filthy acts against Echinacea.
He had no intention of making this matter public either. Echinacea, who had already seen enough ugliness, might let it slide easily, but Yurien didn't want her entangled in the gossip surrounding such an affair.
Keeping his involvement hidden, he used one of the administrative clerks who served as his direct informant. The clerk summoned each of the involved cadets separately, presented them with the compiled evidence of the incident, and gave them a choice: either face a noisy expulsion or quietly withdraw from the academy.
At first, the cadets denied the accusations or flaunted their family's influence. But when the clerk threatened to publicize the matter and report it to the Captain, they all fell silent. The evidence was too damning, and if it became known that they had targeted the Azure Sky Knights' Captain's squire, even their families wouldn't dare shield them.
In the end, all five cadets withdrew quietly, each citing different reasons.
Among them, Bread von Poum was ambushed by bandits on his way home. The bandits dragged him away and dumped him—blindfolded—before the maid he had assaulted and her family, who had fled. Those waiting exacted thorough vengeance on Bread. He lost parts of his body that weren't limbs.
When the Marquis Poum saw his son return in such a state, he flew into a rage, but he couldn't find those responsible. It was inevitable—the bandits who had attacked had returned to their usual business, and the maid's family had already relocated to Agenka under someone's protection. The reach of an imperial marquis couldn't extend to Agenka.
All of this happened while the Azure Sky Knights' Captain and his squire were away from Agenka on a long-term mission.
May 23, 1629. Yurien de Harden Kyrie and Echinacea Roaz boarded a train for their long-term mission.
There was no particular reason why Yurien kept his eyes closed inside the train. Even in first class, the compartment was cramped. Sitting face-to-face in such tight quarters, Echinacea avoided his gaze with visible discomfort, and he, too, closed his eyes briefly to steady his nerves.
With his eyes closed, her presence became palpably more at ease, making it impossible for him to open them again. Yurien debated for a while whether it would be better to pretend to sleep.
Meanwhile, he felt her gaze land on him. Thanks to a Master's keen senses, he could tell she was tracing his face with her eyes. Feeling it while keeping his eyes shut made his face burn with blood. Flustered, he opened his eyes the moment she looked away.
"Oh, when did you wake...?"
"I never slept."
Echinacea, who had been relaxed, tensed up again. The more she tensed, the more depressed he grew. Yurien wished that during this mission, she might grow even slightly more comfortable around him. That's why he was glad even for the small questions she threw his way. He answered as thoroughly as possible. Though he worried his tone might sound stiff, he didn't know how to change it and could only focus on being sincere.
"Can you tell me about the mission now?"
This was one question he couldn't simply be happy about. Their mission was to rescue a girl—both an Elgiosa Owner and a Saintess—from the brink of a fiery death at their next destination. They weren't prophets, yet here they were, trying to know and prevent future events. It would lay bare that he held memories of the past.
<That past you worked so hard to erase. If she learns you remember those erased times, she might disappear and never appear before you again.>
The Holy Sword's words surfaced. His chest tightened with fear. But having already resolved to tell her, Yurien cautiously began.
"The purpose of this mission is to retrieve Elgiosa... and to rescue Elgiosa's Owner."
He deliberately let slip that he remembered. He watched her reaction carefully. How would she respond now?
"Elgiosa? Wasn't it missing? And Elgiosa's Owner...?"
Echinacea didn't accept it. Was it because she wanted to forget the past? Or perhaps because she didn't trust him.
What would happen if he told her he knew she was the Magic Sword's owner? If he, who had died because of her, said that, she would be terrified. It would be digging into the fact she most wanted to hide, into her trauma.
Even if Yurien said he loved her, she wouldn't believe him. She wouldn't understand why he didn't resent her. She would ask how he could possibly love her. Then, he would have no choice but to answer.
Because you fell into the abyss because of me, I cannot resent you. I was the one who turned you into a demon.
Fifteen years of suffering. She had lost too much. Even if everything had been restored, the pain endured to reclaim it had been too long. The scars left on her still hadn't healed.
'If she learns that my attention is why she endured all those nightmares, could she bear it? What would she do? Would she want to kill me?'
Yurien smiled bitterly, feeling the familiar pain as if a blade were tearing through him. He couldn't say it. She might want to forget everything—he couldn't dig it up and wound her again. Even now, wasn't she pretending not to know?
The choice had to be hers. All he could do was wait. But he wouldn't just wait idly. He had resolved to try.
So he brought up the matter of the sword.
"Do you dislike maintaining your sword simply because it's bothersome?"
Yurien knew why she carried around a cheap sword. He asked despite knowing. He was probing her wound. He activated True Sight and looked at her.
"Holding a sword... often makes me feel... unwell. I wanted to minimize the time I spent holding one."
Her soul, reflected in True Sight, twisted. Sword-like marks rose from her burning soul, coiling around it. Flames thrashed in agony. Yurien watched as the seething black malice, instead of lashing outward, strangled its own throat.
It was malice directed at herself. Echinacea now regarded herself with such horror that she wanted to die. It was because he had touched her wound. Seeing that, he wanted to gather his words carefully.
While he regretted it, she suppressed the malice toward herself. The flickering flames burned away the black tendrils strangling her own neck. Echinacea smiled faintly as she spoke. It was an awkward smile.
"The biggest reason is that maintaining a sword is bothersome, though."
Yurien closed his True Sight. She disliked swords far more than he had imagined. Merely talking about swords made her strangle herself like that.
"So you... truly hate swords?"
The sword he had prepared was one that wouldn't require maintenance. He'd thought it would undoubtedly help her. But if she hated swords themselves, perhaps it would be better not to give it. What kind of gift was a sword for someone who hated them?
After a long silence, Echinacea finally answered.
"There are times when it's... enjoyable."
"What times?"
"During sparring... There are moments when it feels like holding a conversation through swords. Those times are pleasant."
There were enjoyable moments? He hadn't expected that at all. She had always wielded her sword solely for purpose, never holding it except when necessary. The Echinacea he'd observed only drew her sword to face enemies.
Yet she spoke of feeling like holding conversations through swords during sparring. As he'd initially guessed, it seemed she didn't hate the sword itself but rather the nightmares it evoked. Inwardly relieved that she might yet come to love swords, he felt comfort spreading through him. Simultaneously, he grew intensely envious of whoever had made her feel that way.
"Someday, I'd like to have such a sword conversation with you."
Only when he saw Echinacea stiffen did Yurien realize he'd unconsciously voiced his wish. A mistake. Around her, his words kept slipping out unbidden. He hurried to apologize.
"I'm not pressuring you. My apologies."
"N-no, it's fine."
"Anyway, then..."
This sword was made for you. If you don't hate swords themselves, could you accept it? In his mind, the words flowed naturally and composedly, but the real him couldn't string them together properly.
"I-if your reason for wielding a sword... is like that, then..."
Embarrassed by his fumbling speech, he coughed awkwardly and closed his mouth. He'd been speaking perfectly fine moments ago—why was he like this now?
Echinacea was looking at him curiously. Confused by his own inexplicable state, Yurien only understood why when he saw her expression. This was the first time he was about to give a woman he loved a gift made solely for her. Moreover, this gift was something he'd crafted before even realizing his own feelings.
Despite his lack of awareness, he'd designed it in white similar to his own sword Langiosa, embedded amethysts while thinking of her eyes, and even named it "Amethyst." All while foolishly believing that since swords were the most neutral gift a Lord could give a Squire, it wouldn't reveal his feelings.
Now realizing it—how could it not contain his feelings? The sword might as well have been named "Giosa of Affection." And he'd been about to give this to her without a second thought. For the first time in his life, Yurien felt ashamed of his past self. But having already broached the subject, he couldn't back out now.
Finally, he rose and retrieved the leather bundle he'd brought. Inside lay the sword he'd envisioned standing beside his holy blade. He'd constantly imagined her wielding it. Hoping it would aid her, he'd carefully selected and engraved each enchantment. It was, truthfully, an embarrassingly heartfelt object.
With trembling hands, he pushed it toward Echinacea.
"This is yours."
"This is..."
"It requires no maintenance. No special care either. It's enchanted."
The cost of those enchantments alone exceeded a knight's annual salary. He hadn't even calculated the sword's total expense.