Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: One Fine Day
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A brilliant, black Aura Blade.
And then,
*Crack—*
his Aura Core fractured.
Balseon always woke up at that scene.
“Ugh—!”
A piercing pain shot through his lower abdomen.
Why did a dream have to feel so real?
This being a regular occurrence, Balseon simply got up, washed the cold sweat from his face, and stood in the middle of the room.
All the while, from his bed to the washbasin, a bright blue sword never left his hand.
Balseon, too, always followed Lansen’s teachings.
Not in front of others, but whenever he was alone like this, he always lived with his sword in hand.
There was no grand reason for it. Balseon no longer held any hope of reclaiming his former strength.
He simply wanted to be helpful.
How wonderful would it be if he could offer even the smallest piece of advice to the young lord and ladies who trained so hard? That was why he tried to do the same as them.
“Hoo—”
Balseon sat down, placing the sword he held across his knees.
Practice aura upon waking. That was his routine.
Of course, his Aura Core had long since shattered, leaving not even a trace behind, but he still practiced every day.
This, too, was for no particular reason.
It was simply that doing so lessened the pain and allowed him to move.
Most methods of practicing aura began with sitting still, and once the aura was sufficiently warmed up, one would gradually start moving. At first, it was like simple exercises, but eventually, it became intense, full-powered movements.
But Balseon’s aura practice always ended at the level of slow exercises. Its purpose, after all, was to calm the ferocious residual aura within him. To go any further would be suicide.
*Wooooong—*
As his sword hummed faintly, Balseon suddenly recalled a famous saying.
“A great mountain does not collapse. Its rocks and soil have merely found a new place…”
It didn’t perfectly fit his situation, but it resonated with him nonetheless.
“If anything, my aura control and understanding of the sword have deepened.”
The residual aura left in his body.
He had lived with that ferocity inside him for over three years.
And for the eleven years before that, he had lived while nursing a damaged core.
Fourteen years in total.
He had endured a rampaging aura with a damaged, or nonexistent, Aura Core.
It was only natural that his control would improve.
On top of that, his talent for the sword had always been exceptional.
So much so that his understanding of the sword deepened on its own, despite not being able to train properly for a long time.
*‘And His Highness Lansen even bestowed such teachings upon me…'*
Ancient swordsmanship.
The moment he heard it, it just clicked.
*This is it. Yes. Swords have souls, too.* He had even felt like shouting it from the rooftops.
Things he had finally gained only after losing everything else.
And so,
now, of all times,
he found himself entertaining a foolish wish.
“I want to be a knight… again.”
The minimum qualification for a knight was Expert-Low.
With his damaged Aura Core, Balseon could no longer call himself a knight.
In his youth, he had a dream that burned like a blazing fire, but now, only ashes remained.
The lush forest he had cultivated through long years of arduous training had burned down completely, leaving behind a heaping pile of ash.
He had no dream anymore.
That was why he cried.
Even on the day he was granted the ancient magic potion.
He cried out of gratitude for Lansen’s kindness… and he cried out of guilt.
The precious potion seemed to carry the meaning, *Why not plant a new seed in the ashes and cultivate a forest once more?* But Balseon only felt sorry and ashamed.
*Twinge—*
A pain resonated in his lower abdomen.
And in that moment, a draining sense of emptiness.
“Nngh—”
Balseon collapsed onto the floor, overcome with dizziness and exhaustion.
He knew.
He did not have much time left.
After fighting his internal injuries for fourteen years, his life force was already depleted and fading.
The potion could only heal wounds and distortions; it could not restore a life force that had already been spent.
Balseon would die soon. He would weaken and fade naturally, like a dying flame.
*‘The seed His Highness planted will never sprout…'*
Balseon felt terribly guilty about that.
*Sniffle.*
His nose tingled again.
Perhaps because his body had weakened, his heart had too.
The innocent words of little children could make his nose sting.
Not long ago, some kid had said it.
“But Mister Balseon is weak, isn’t he?”
About a year ago, he had gotten into a fight with a warrior who was causing a scene in front of the children, and he had ended up getting beaten.
He had managed to protect his face so as not to worry His Highness and the young lord and ladies… but the kids remembered it all too well.
*‘It’s fine.’*
Balseon just laughed it off.
His days were quite busy.
He had many duties, but the most important was being the chief instructor in charge of training the regular army.
However,
“Um… Chief Instructor Balseon. I don’t quite understand this part about offense and defense as one.”
the other instructors were the problem.
How could they be so different from His Highness Lansen and the young lord and ladies?
They could understand perfectly even if he explained poorly and would even improve upon his teachings…
Sharing the curriculum with the other instructors was exhausting.
*‘If only I could demonstrate it myself…'*
Since he couldn’t, he would talk at length, but in the end,
“Sigh… Yes. I understand.”
he would receive a sigh-filled reply that clearly meant they didn’t understand at all.
Still, Balseon enjoyed discussing martial arts.
He enjoyed it so much that he would visit the taverns frequented by warriors every night just to talk about it.
“The fast sword is the best! Just look at Gepetto and Catch! No warrior can last ten clashes with them!”
When someone boasted like that,
“But a more standard, defensive style of swordsmanship can break a fast sword like that.”
he had interjected. After chiming in,
“Hey, old man. Who do you think you are? Wanna go a round?”
he had been startled by the warrior’s aggressive response and quickly left the tavern.
That was how his days went by.
One night, Lansen came to see Balseon.
“I’ve got some good liquor. Care for a drink?”
“Sounds good.”
Balseon gladly accepted.
He still spoke informally to Lansen.
In his heart, he called him ‘Your Highness,’ but Lansen had refused the title, saying it still felt awkward.
Balseon himself also felt a sense of inadequacy, thinking, *Who am I to… I’m not even a knight…*
However,
“I’ve never seen this liquor before.”
What was this?
Balseon looked at the cup placed before him.
A small cup held a transparent liquid that shimmered with a soft, silvery light.
“It’s precious. Just try it.”
“What about you, Lansen?”
“I’ve already had some. I’ll have this.”
He then opened another bottle he had brought and poured some into his own cup.
“No need for a toast, just drink it. Don’t spill a single drop.”
Who was he to refuse an order from him? Balseon drained the cup in one go.
“…It doesn’t taste like anything.”
Was this even liquor?
As Balseon tilted his head in confusion, Lansen gave him a playful smile.
“Just wait. It has a bit of a delayed kick.”
***
One drink for me. One for Balseon.
The snacks were soft jerky and cheese.
I drank slowly on purpose.
We talked about this and that.
“Remember when you cut down that Sword Master? Phew… even my father used to say it. That in terms of pure swordsmanship, Knight Balseon was probably the best in the kingdom.”
Balseon looked away awkwardly, but it wasn't an exaggeration.
If anything, it was an understatement.
My father had actually said this:
If Balseon had also possessed a talent for aura, he would have been the kingdom’s greatest sword.
*‘Jahir of a Hundred Victories? There’s no comparison.’*
The pinnacle of all knights below the rank of Sword Master.
A knight whose theoretical understanding of swordsmanship and aura was second to none.
That was why he had been the captain of the Royal Guard,
why he had raised me to become a Sword Master,
and why he had saved my life twice—once in the kingdom, and again at the castle in Delkashu.
I could still see it vividly.
The day we escaped the kingdom.
The sight of Balseon cutting down the empire’s Sword Master.
Even considering the help from the other knights, it was a feat far beyond what a top-tier knight should have been capable of.
It was an unforgettable, powerful memory for us.
But for him, it must have remained a wound.
The price of that bloody battle was a crack in his core.
Still, I kept bringing up that memory.
“If you start learning ancient swordsmanship in earnest, you’ll improve in no time. You’ll be even stronger than before.”
Balseon avoided my gaze.
He mumbled as if making an excuse.
“Even so, that’s all… in the past… Hm?”
The old man, who had been sighing as he spoke, widened his eyes.
It’s starting!
Finally!
“Huh? Wh-what?”
Balseon looked down at his hands and body.
A brilliant radiance emanated from his entire being.
“What in the world…”
The light gradually gathered toward his lower abdomen before finally seeping in with a clear sound.
“Told you, didn’t I? It has a bit of a delayed kick.”
*Gulp!*
The drink I downed in one go had never tasted so sweet.
The ever-changing expressions on his face were a sight to behold.
First, suspicion. Then, shock. And then… a complex expression that was hard to describe.
“How is it?”
Pretty amazing, right?
The feeling of a vanished Aura Core regenerating.
I know it well.
The old man stared at me intently.
Intently.
Intently.
After gazing at me for a long time with an incredible expression, he suddenly rose to his feet.
With a suddenly solemn air, he drew his sword.
“I shall… show you directly.”
He’s even using formal speech… How awkward.
I wanted to tease him about it, but I couldn’t.
The Vanroah Royal Swordsmanship flowing from his hand had captured my full attention.
*‘Wow… This old man hasn’t let go of his sword for a single day, has he?’*
I could feel it the moment he cut through the air.
A sword strike that extended naturally, a perfect, textbook example.
And what’s more,
*‘Wow… he’s getting better and better.’*
His already precise swordsmanship grew even more refined and powerful with every swing.
*Hwoosh— Hwoosh—*
A cool, rushing sword wind.
An aura that tore through the air.
And then once more,
and again,
he kept getting stronger and more precise.
Endlessly.
“What the…?”
I narrowed my eyes without realizing it.
At first, it was just at the level of, *‘He hasn’t lost his touch,’* but…
“Is this even possible…?”
At some point, his momentum had far surpassed that of my siblings, who had trained like their lives depended on it.
Even Katrina isn’t at that level yet…
*Fwoooosh—!*
The sword wind had grown so fierce that the curtains flapped as if they would tear.
The cups on the table rattled.
And at its tip, faintly formed,
“An Aura… Blade?”
The symbol of a Sword Master.
On top of that,
*Slice—*
shown by the slice of the curtain falling away…
“Ancient… Sword Ki?”
The proof of an Ancient Expert-Low.
*‘Father was right.’*
This old man is a genius, too.
He hadn’t just recovered; he had surpassed himself.
As a Sword Master and an Ancient Expert.
“…”
The old man silently gazed at the faint Aura Blade and sharp haze on his sword, then slowly knelt before me.
He rested on one knee, holding his sword vertically with its tip touching the ground, and bowed his head.
“Knight Balseon Valancha greets the venerable lord of Vanroah, His Highness Lansen Vanroah.”
He offered his greeting according to the old etiquette of our royal family.
I found it a little awkward.
“You’re not crying? I thought you would. You’re such a crybaby, you know.”
I prodded playfully, but,
“I will not cry. From now on… I will protect you with my sword.”
Hearing that voice, firm with resolve… I decided to stop joking around.
I placed my hand over his… no, over Knight Balseon Valancha’s hand on the hilt of his sword.
Feeling that warm, rough hand,
I spoke the words that I had perhaps always kept in my heart,
the words I had always wanted to say.
I said them.
“Knight Balseon. My first knight. It is truly good to see you.”
The pleasant buzz from the alcohol.
The cool breeze blowing in from the window.
It seemed like it would be a long-remembered,
truly fine day.