Chapter 344
Chapter 344
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 344
Chapter Title: Immortals and Mortals (13)
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-Plop!
In the midst of the lush jungle, a single flower bud burst open unexpectedly, blooming into life. Nameless white flowers of various kinds bubbled up one after another, carving out a path.
What a romantically poetic invitation. Even though he was late to the party. Fernandez gave a wry smile and followed the trail of flowers. At that moment, Zephys, who had been walking alongside him, came to a halt.
“Brother?”
“Go on alone.”
“……Pardon?”
“As a priest, I can’t ignore this implication. If the goddess herself wishes to preside over it, then there’s even less reason for me to interfere.”
Zephys chuckled lightly and stepped back. He removed his cloak, spread it on the ground, and sat down. After tearing open the waterskin and taking a sip, he waved casually with good humor.
“Take your time.”
It was hard to understand Zephys’s sudden behavior. But flowers. It had to be Freya’s invitation, and her presence meant there were no threats nearby.
This seemed purely a warm welcome to celebrate the return of a comrade alive. Fernandez nodded readily and stepped onto the blue path carpeted with flowers.
* * *
It was his first time visiting a dragon’s lair, but Fernandez felt an uncanny familiarity. The white flowers blooming amid the underbrush grew ever denser, until the entire forest path gleamed pure white.
Rustle, rustle. The sensation of the flowers under his flower-studded brocade shoes felt just like snowflakes. It was as if he were traversing untouched snowfields, and Fernandez walked on with a rather sentimental mood.
Soon, a clearing appeared. All around, as if a blizzard had blanketed everything, the flowers released a familiar scent amid the late summer heat.
“You’ve come.”
Far off, a woman in mourning white sat quietly. Fernandez unconsciously pressed his eyes shut tight.
A familiar sensation…… Back when he first met her in Infermer. The landscape of her mental world had resembled this place. The woman who had wept eternally amid gravestones dripping blood, beneath snowflakes drifting like petals.
Now, she stood straight amid a thicket of piled flowers like snow, smiling directly at him.
“I had so many words I wanted to say if I ever saw you again. What it felt like sending you away, what state of mind I endured, what time I had to spend…….”
Abel rose slowly from her seat. In her hand was a weathered saint-metal longsword. She gripped the hilt, drew it to her chest, and held it rigidly upright.
“With every passing day, hope dwindled, and misery followed in equal measure. Regret, remorse, lament—call it what you will. Gazing out over vast wastelands without a day’s respite. By that much. That much.”
-Rustle.
She approached, stepping on the flower grass, cradling the sword in both arms.
“Draw your sword, Fernandez Cerned.”
“……Abel.”
“I have many thoughts and words to share. But our time is too precious for petty complaints. For a warrior, isn’t a single stroke of the blade worth a thousand words?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Enough.”
-Kreeeng.
Abel drew her sword and thrust it straight toward Fernandez. It was an ancient courtesy, offered before an honorable duel to show respect to one’s opponent. Reflexively, Fernandez gripped his sword and assumed the same stance.
“Fernandez. From now on, when apologizing for the past, use the present progressive.”
Always in the past tense. Fernandez understood the meaning behind those words and nodded quietly. This, too, was a classical noble courtesy. Unique to the Dane Kingdom nobility.
Apologize for the past in the past tense. It wasn’t mere grammar. It meant that mistakes could be repeated endlessly, so long as he just came back. It was what ladies said while handing handkerchiefs to knights heading into battle.
At this elegant dragon’s heartfelt sentiment, Fernandez chuckled lowly. He drew his sword and aimed it at Abel. Their gazes crossed, and they swung simultaneously.
-Clang!
The first was a simple probe. A straight thrust, anticipating the block. As if rehearsed, their blades lightly tapped and withdrew at once for the next strike—
-Clang!
The blades lay flat and intertwined in a sweeping motion. A sword path signaling no intent to harm. Again, as if in perfect sync, they struck and retracted simultaneously. Another exchange.
-Clang! Clack! Ching!
After the initial two exchanges, Fernandez focused solely on defense. Every offensive stroke came from Abel’s hand. Faster and faster, more passionately.
-Clang! Clang! Claaack!
The blades bit into each other like teeth grinding, as if tearing flesh!
How much sorrow, how much lament had she felt? What hell had those months shown her? The sword paths pleaded like a child’s tantrum. Blades entangled, repelled, rejoined—the strikes flowed on.
-Clang!
And Fernandez still concentrated only on defense. Receiving every stroke as if embracing it. Finally, as her onslaught gradually slowed.
-Kreeeeng…….
The sword tip halted before his nose, trembling lowly. Fernandez glanced at the chill blade. From the fierce sword dance, flower buds scattered everywhere, drifting lazily down.
Before his eyes, a single petal fluttered onto the still blade.
“Will you accept it?”
“You won’t regret it?”
“Since the day I lost you, I’ve exhausted all the regrets of my lifetime, Fernandez. There’s nothing left to lessen, so I wish for you to fill them.”
“You won’t always see only the beautiful, wear only the fine, or eat only the exquisite. I lack both the ability and the fortune for that.”
“But I can always see you.”
With a keening ring, Abel elegantly spun her extended sword and sheathed it. She reached for a falling petal but paused, then grumbled.
“But it’s strange. Normally, isn’t it the man who proposes to the lady first? Why do I feel like you’ve pierced my nose and led me along? This is my first time confessing or accepting…… Not good at all.”
“So be it.”
They had vented laments and grievances through crossed blades, conveyed hearts through extended swords. There was no longer anywhere to run, nor reason to. Fernandez sheathed his sword on his back, extended his right hand, and touched the air.
A strand of mana circuit reacted to his hand seal, activating. Soon, branches sprouted from his fingertips, blooming white flowers into a bouquet.
He handed it to her with a smile.
“I’ll ensure I never leave your side again. Join me.”
“Gladly.”
Abel’s eyes welled with tears as she smiled back. She extended her slender hand, took the bouquet from his grasp, and held it to her chest.
-Boom!!!
Flower petals exploded wildly from all directions above their heads, making a racket. Fernandez scowled fiercely and glared into the distant corner.
“Freya.”
“Ahem. Yes, the goddess handling the officiating, guests, and decorations. Plus a few other things like flowers, spring, and new life, but ignore that now. The goddess is just scenery.”
Freya spoke playfully, arms spread wide. She swayed her body slowly, as if she were a tree branch.
“Come now, ignore the goddess and kiss, bride and groom.”
“Could you stop these?”
“Why? Don’t you southerners have a tradition of scattering petals at weddings?”
“Where did you see that?”
“Alleyway romances always end in this atmosphere. Knight slays dragon, marries the lady, that sort.”
Fernandez hesitated, wondering if she should say that in front of the dragon getting married right now. Abel merely smiled demurely. It seemed no words reached her ears now except “wedding.”
The moment too awkward, Fernandez shook his head vigorously, brushed the petals from his face, and spoke.
“I won’t slay a dragon, and our story isn’t over yet. Freya, will you join us too?”
“……Heavens, Lindbloom……. I…… I don’t know. Didn’t I say it?! This man’s a philanderer!!”
“What do you……?”
Freya paled suddenly and flapped in panic.
“Heavens, heavens! A groom repeating his confession to the bride verbatim to a guest! The goddess…… the goddess fears the south now!! I miss the north’s steadfast, sturdy culture!!”
* * *
After sending Fernandez off, Zephys watched his retreating figure with a smile for a moment before pulling a Bible from his bosom. It was one of the most meaningful ways for him to spend time alone.
Then, a shadow stretched long before his eyes. Zephys spoke without closing the book. He had already sensed people approaching.
“An unexpected place to meet again, Lady Tremurelle.”
Basking in the sunlight piercing through the dense forest, Everys cast her shadow over the seated Zephys. She brushed back her hair with one hand and said,
“Sir Shiradast. It hurt that you left so suddenly.”
“I’m truly sorry for failing to reciprocate your kindness, my lady.”
“I understand you had urgent business, so it’s fine, sir. Might Lord Cerned be at the end of this path?”
“Yes, but I’m waiting as well.”
“If I’m not intruding, it might make the wait less boring.”
Everys smiled sadly as she spoke to him. Zephys gazed at her face for a moment, then closed his Bible, tucked it away, and made room.
The two spent time in the sunlight without a word. After a while, Everys fidgeted with her fingers and looked at Zephys.
Firm jawline, resolute eyes. Zephys stared impassively at the sky. Everys, glaring stubbornly at him, tossed out abruptly,
“Fine weather.”
“Indeed.”
“Have you perhaps taken a vow of chastity, sir?”
“……Pardon?”
“Or are you a libertine?”
“……No.”
“Then, are you already married, have a lady in your heart, illegitimate children, or some other reason?”
“I don’t follow your intent, but I’ve been a priest since a very young age.”
Silence fell once more after those words. After a brief quiet, Everys said softly,
“How about Everys Shiradast?”
“……Pardon?”
“Or Zephys de Tremurelle works too. Honestly, I prefer the latter. My sister can’t seem to have children anyway.”
Gazing at the bewildered Zephys, Everys pulled a document from her bosom. The envelope bore a seal he knew well. The seal of the Beitasser Papal Court.
Everys smiled confidently as she handed him the document.
“We’re married.”
He wasn’t a fool. He knew full well this headstrong countess’s daughter harbored feelings for him. He’d sidestepped rejections and avoided her.
It wasn’t that she lacked anything or that he disliked her. Zephys was an inquisitor, sworn for life to hunt demons and their followers, even if excommunicated. He wasn’t foolish enough to drag a companion down that thorny path.
Yet he blankly replayed her words. “Married?” Not “will marry,” but already had?
Everys beamed innocently at his expression and nodded.
“Robert has no heirs, so my child will be the next Tremurelle court baron. His Imperial Majesty and His Holiness have both graciously approved this union.”
Zephys looked at her face, realizing he needed to revise every assessment he’d made of her. The notion of her as a sincere, kind, but naive noble daughter was thoroughly mistaken.
She was a proper Levaunter Empire court noble. The type who prepared political nooses in advance to get what she wanted.