Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: A Bittersweet Reunion
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“...Who are you to call me that?”
The surprise was fleeting. Zimmerman’s gaze hardened, and he asked in a cold voice.
His wariness was only natural.
After all, as I was now, I had never even met the vice-commander of the personnel division.
Besides, a warrior of Zimmerman’s caliber would have noticed the subtle differences in the Heaven-Severing Nine Harmony Sword I had just performed.
While the sword path was identical, the nature of the underlying aura was completely different.
But I was confident I could persuade him.
“Shouldn’t this be enough of an answer?”
*Shing!*
I extended the sword I had been twirling playfully.
The sleekly forged blade, the chillingly sharp edge, the simple yet extraordinary form of the hilt.
It was undeniably the Black Dragon Sword.
“Besides, I was the only one in the family who called you ‘old man,’ wasn’t I?”
“...”
At my sly tone, the vice-commander’s body flinched.
The discipline within the Riverune family’s armed forces was exceptionally strict.
No young disciple would ever dare to address Zimmerman so familiarly.
Except for me, the one who lived the most wantonly…
No, the one who lived just a little more freely than the others.
“The direct line of Riverune was annihilated. Do not try to test me.”
Even after seeing the Black Dragon Sword and hearing the familiar address, his resolve not to be swayed was palpable.
He must have faced countless traps during his long years on the run.
It was inevitable that a deep distrust of others had taken root in his heart.
*Zzzzzzzzt!*
Zimmerman gripped his sword tightly in his left hand, his aura flaring.
It was as if he were trying to demonstrate that he was still a force to be reckoned with.
The sight was so pitiable it felt like my heart would burst.
But I showed no sign of it, instead beginning to recount our memories one by one.
‘No, Young Lord. How in the world did you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘You guessed your opponent’s hand exactly at the end. From what I saw, no one at the table was cheating.’
‘Oh, come on…’
Living the life of a playboy, I was skilled in all sorts of frivolous pursuits.
I was especially good at gambling, and the vice-commander was always chasing after me, trying to make me stop.
But in the end, it was Zimmerman who fell for the allure of the gamble.
He was captivated by my performance, as if I were possessed by a god of gambling.
In any case, during the last game before I was confined deep within the training grounds by my father’s order…
I had completely turned the tables.
I made my opponent fold by guessing his hand.
It must have been one of Zimmerman’s most vivid memories.
At the time, I had deflected the vice-commander’s question like this:
“How can I so carelessly reveal the secrets of a gambling god?”
My voice was a little different, but my intonation and speech pattern were a perfect match for that day.
In an instant, Zimmerman’s eyes widened as far as they could go.
This was something that no one could possibly know unless they had been there.
“H-How do you know that…”
The vice-commander finally seemed to believe me, at least a little.
His reaction was markedly different from before.
His eyes no longer darted about, searching for an escape route.
He was simply so stunned that his gaze trembled violently.
I offered a faint smile to Zimmerman.
“Because I am Cain, the Young Lord of Riverune, of course.”
“The Young Lord is dead. I confirmed the body myself!”
“Do you really think someone as skilled in all sorts of tricks as me couldn't fake his own death?”
“...”
Since it had come to this, I decided to just be brazen about it.
The body was a fake, and I had survived by hiding somewhere in the monster-infested wilderness.
The truth—that I had successfully possessed another’s body using Deinox’s sigil—was far more unbelievable.
I was the only one who knew of that magic circle’s existence.
Besides, though I had tried several times since my revival, summoning the Founding Head had strangely been impossible.
With no way to prove it, a simple lie was the fastest way to convince him.
Though he seemed slightly swayed, Zimmerman did not release the aura he had gathered.
It appeared he wasn't fully convinced yet.
“What are you hesitating for? Are you going to propose? Planning to fail a fourth time?”
I put an end to the vice-commander’s disbelief.
Zimmerman was famous for having been rejected after multiple marriage proposals.
It was known within the family that he had tried three times, but in reality, there had been one more attempt.
I had been with him that time, and we had agreed not to speak of it in exchange for him turning a blind eye to one of my transgressions.
The rejection had been just that pathetic.
“I never told anyone. Not even my father or brother.”
“Huu… I know. It was the kind of incident that would have spread like wildfire, yet no one ever spoke of it.”
At last, Zimmerman answered my question properly.
Then, he called my name in the same warm voice as before.
“It has been a long time, Young Lord.”
The Shiraks were a vassal family to the Riverunes, and for a very long time, the two had been as one.
Technically, Zimmerman and I were distant relatives.
Even so, he had always respectfully called me Young Lord due to my position.
This, while others regarded me as little more than ‘handsome trash.’
*Zzzzz…*
The aura finally vanished from the vice-commander’s sword.
I strode toward Zimmerman.
I intended to give a warm embrace to an old friend I hadn't seen in ages.
But it was at that very moment.
“Cough!”
*Drip, drip, drip!*
The vice-commander suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood, and his body crumbled.
He tried to use his sword as a cane to support himself, but his arms had no strength.
“Zimmerman!”
I rushed forward and supported him.
He had been severely injured, but just moments ago, he had seemed perfectly fine.
How could his condition deteriorate so rapidly?
After gently laying him down, I immediately cast a spell.
‘Rejuvenation, Healing.’
I cast a 4th-tier continuous recovery spell and a 5th-tier healing spell in quick succession.
But it only stopped the bleeding; Zimmerman’s condition remained critical.
This was despite Rejuvenation constantly working to repair his collapsing tissues.
*Thud.*
Suddenly, the vice-commander’s left hand rose and lightly touched my shoulder.
“...You don’t have to try so hard.”
Zimmerman’s face was utterly serene.
It was as if he had already accepted death.
I shook my head and unleashed every kind of healing magic I knew.
Soon, his external wounds looked completely healed.
The bleeding was under control, and even his crushed eye had returned to normal.
Despite all this, the vice-commander’s face remained ashen.
“Young Lord.”
“Please be quiet. I have to do something. How did that Recovery spell work again?”
“...Young Lord.”
“What is it?”
As I sweated, trying to cast the spell, Zimmerman spoke to me softly.
His left hand was now caressing my face.
“Seeing you so desperate… you truly are the Young Lord.”
“After all that, you still don’t believe me? Now?”
“You were always causing trouble and running off to play, but you were always a warm person, Young Lord. You had a soft heart.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t bring up old stories. Are you going to talk about the chicken again?”
“Hehehe…”
The vice-commander let out a low laugh at my gruff reply.
He seemed to be recalling the time when I, as a child, had clung to a chicken in the kitchen, throwing a tantrum.
I had insisted it was a pet and refused to let them kill it, only to devour the chicken dish that appeared at dinner as if possessed.
I always pretended not to remember, blaming my young age, but in truth, the memory was crystal clear.
This was one of Zimmerman’s favorite stories to bring up whenever I was at a disadvantage.
“There are no external wounds now. How are your internal injuries?”
I asked as I examined his body.
But Zimmerman only muttered something nonsensical in a weak voice.
“I was searching for the scattered survivors of Riverune. Then I fell into a trap set by those Felton bastards and ended up like this.”
“You should have been more careful.”
“How could I remain calm? Huu… They had captured my wife.”
“Mari? Did you rescue her?”
“She was already… cough! She had already passed… on. It was… false information.”
Even with all the healing magic I poured into him, the vice-commander’s complexion only grew worse.
It seemed the very foundation of his aura had suffered a fatal blow.
I kept talking to Zimmerman to keep him conscious while casting various spells.
There was still a chance he might recover.
“Hah! Those persistent bastards. Keep breathing. You’re circulating your aura, right?”
“Yes… But thanks to them, urk! I was able to… meet you, Young Lord, wasn’t I?”
The vice-commander smiled faintly and briefly explained what had happened.
I wondered if I should tell him I’d been reborn as the youngest son of our enemy, but just then, Zimmerman continued.
“My efforts weren’t entirely in vain… I met with survivors and… we made a safe house.”
“Really?”
“Yes. If you wish to meet them, go to the Tomb of Swords in the Railharshe Kingdom and find… urgh!”
But just as he was about to reveal the crucial information about the survivors…
The vice-commander clutched his chest, let out a pained groan, and buried his head in my arms.
The severe internal injuries had flared up, and he died, unable to speak another word.
It seemed his apparent wellness just moments before was nothing more than a final flicker of life before the end.
“Ah…”
Having failed to save Zimmerman, I let out a low groan mixed with tears.
He must have fought by converting even his life force into aura during his battle with the Felton knights.
As I held the vice-commander and wept silently, I thought I could hear someone’s voice.
‘Young Lord, you cannot go there anymore!’
It was Zimmerman’s voice, coming to inform me of my father’s ultimatum.
I was confined to the training room after ignoring his warning. I never imagined that would be the last time I saw him.
I had never regretted my time frequenting gambling dens, but today, for some reason, I resented my past self.
“Dammit. Just how pathetic were you?”
My head bowed, tears streaming down my face, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Zimmerman’s face.
A crushing sense of self-loathing weighed down on my entire body.