Chapter 38 - A Vacation That Was No Vacation (1)

Sturma, the capital city of Bayezid County.

In the enormous mansion there, a man whose hair had gone half-white and an old man with a long white beard were conversing.

"They say the pilgrim's party will be passing through our Sturma."

"Should we go out to welcome them?"

At Peter's question, his adviser Ragmus shook his head and answered.

"It seems they do not want that. They said they will literally pass through quietly, see the dragon's traces, and leave."

"How very classical."

Listening to Ragmus, Peter nodded quietly.

Voices of God who desired nothing.

It had truly been a long time since he had seen such devout pilgrims.

"... It should be all right to look after them without their knowing, shouldn't it?"

"I knew you would say that."

Those who were qualified had the right to enjoy what they deserved.

Ragmus, who knew Peter's disposition and personality well, nodded and answered that he would make preparations.

"And my second son... and Vlad."

And here were other qualified ones as well.

Fortunately, they were people within his own house, so no one would say anything no matter what he provided for them.

"I heard they finished the job splendidly."

"They did. There was a word in the report that made even this old man's heart race."

"Hm."

Listening to Ragmus, Peter nodded.

The first rule of a swordmaster.

At those nostalgic words, which he had not heard in a very long time, Peter had smiled with true feeling.

"It must have been a rare sight in an age like this, when knights are raised so carefully."

"If you had been there, you truly would have enjoyed it."

Though he did not show it, Peter agreed with Ragmus.

Knights were precious beings, and also strategic weapons that required many resources and investments.

For that reason, most families had selected from the very beginning those of proven noble blood or those with exceptional talent, and had provided elite education to turn them into knights.

Rough gems managed with utmost care.

And therefore, young knights and young squires who did not drive themselves into extreme situations where the swordmaster's rules would be necessary.

Some old knights complained about that state of affairs, but there was nothing to be done about the changing times.

Yet that day in Deirmar, there had been a single ray of light that went against the times.

To some people, it would be like a welcome bit of romance they had not seen in a long while.

"There will be a few people who like this."

"It brings Bayezid's golden generation to mind."

"The old men will come carrying sweets for the chick."

Peter set down the documents he had been holding and sank deep into his chair.

"Even so, he belongs to that son of mine, so we will need his permission."

"If you do that, Lord Joseph will be pleased."

"... So much to think about."

Peter smiled, yet could not help furrowing his brow.

He had thought the boy would give up soon, since he was gasping for breath, but in the end, he had crawled through the mud and picked up something shining.

"So much to think about."

Thinking of his second son, who did not even mind rolling through the mud in order to win, Peter sank into deep contemplation.

Those who were too worthless were a problem.

But those who were too outstanding were a problem as well.

Because in the end, he would have to choose only one.

※※※※

"Why do you keep blinking your left eye? Did you get a pebble in it or something?"

His first training session with Jager after returning to Sturma.

There, Vlad had wanted to focus on confirming the results of his growth, his heart swollen with dreams.

"... I thought I told you not to do things you can't even manage."

And that was also the very thing his master had most told him not to do.

The boy had just ignored the rule Jager had laid down.

"Gah!"

Vlad rolled hard as he watched the sky suddenly rush toward him.

The blow Jager had just landed was as sharp as ever, but there was not the slightest trace of consideration in it.

"Get up."

"Ugh..."

The blow had struck so painfully that Vlad could not easily come to his senses, but when he saw Jager's eye looking at him, he hurriedly corrected his stance.

Whether anger, passion, or expectation, Jager had always treated the boy with things that burned.

"You managed a clumsy counterattack in Deirmar, and now you think you're something? Have the things I say become so ridiculous that you can ignore them?"

Now, a cold disappointment lingered in his eye.

"..."

If one did not expect anything in the first place, one would not be disappointed either.

And so, to the boy, an adult who expressed the emotion of disappointment was a first in his life.

And that was why it stabbed painfully into the boy's chest all the more.

"... I'm sorry."

"That is all for today."

Jager sheathed his sword with a concise motion and spoke.

"If you are forcing yourself to do this, then don't come. And if you think you can do it without me, then don't seek me out."

"..."

Unlike usual, there was not a single curse in his words, but Vlad felt it would have been better to be cursed at instead.

Contempt, humiliation, and mockery toward a worthless existence were things he was far too used to, so they did not hurt.

But the disappointment Jager was showing now was tearing at a place deep inside the boy's chest.

Because what could pierce the boy's heart of ice deeply was the tip of a warm needle.

Vlad was at a loss, feeling the coldness that came from something warm.

"Go."

"... Yes."

Knowing well Jager's nature of not easily taking back something he had decided, Vlad could only lower his head and follow his decision.

Today's training was over.

It was because of the boy's attitude of trying clumsily to rely on aura.

The boy had failed to overcome his impatience.

[Start with the fundamentals, I told you.]

"..."

Listening to the voice, Vlad gloomily sheathed his unadorned sword.

[Even I would have gotten angry.]

Ever since Vlad had released aura, Jager had been handling the boy with great sensitivity.

Because he looked far too precarious.

The things the boy had built up were certainly shining and admirable, but the place where they had taken root was like a sandy beach by the sea.

Things not solid enough, things that might be swept away and vanish in a great wave at any time.

Jager did not want the boy to become like that.

"... I just wanted to try bringing it out one more time."

[It was only the manifestation of potential. It would be better for you to hurry and forget it.]

And the voice, too, was worried about the boy's state.

Could every knight use aura?

No, they could not.

Then were knights who did not know how to use aura of a lower level?

That, too, was not true.

Being able to handle aura was only the manifestation of the possibility that one could climb higher than other knights.

Only when one could make it fully one's own and use it skillfully in real combat could one truly be said to use aura.

[Do not forget that it has not been long since you first held a sword. Fine flowers bloom only on a solid foundation.]

"..."

But the voice understood.

A boy in the prime of youth had held a shining sword in his hand, so of course he would want to swing it.

Anyone would.

[Think again about what Jager said. If you were not worth his concern, he would not even have gotten angry.]

"I understand."

So he only hoped the boy would understand his words.

He hoped the boy who had only now bloomed would withstand the countless temptations that would come and lift his head straight toward the sky.

A bitter feeling rose up from his stomach, but Vlad only twisted his lips and did not collapse.

Today's training was ruined anyway, botched, hopeless, and in any case, a failure.

It was ruined, so what could he do?

For now, he had to forget it.

The boy, who had practically lived inside a barrel of frustration, was someone who tried not to lose to false emotions.

No matter where one was, the world did not kindly extend a hand to someone who had once collapsed.

Rather, this world was one that forced you down until you were on your knees.

The boy, who had lived in the lowest place, knew that merciless side of the world well.

"... Guess I'll go eat."

Vlad roughly tousled his blond hair and headed toward the dining hall.

A squire entering the dining hall with stumbling steps, an unadorned sword at his waist and wearing the shirt the countess had given him.

"..."

The response that returned to Vlad after he had come back from a mission that had taken close to a month was unavoidable silence, and a small measure of respect.

A few squires quick to hear news had already heard through their families what Vlad had done in Deirmar.

And so everyone here could now clearly know who had become the most precious and outstanding among the squires present.

Whether a family's power was great or poor, whether the gap in status was high or low, no longer mattered.

The alley fights of children were over.

With the appearance of one single person who stood in a different world.

From now on, the true boss of this place was the blond boy, the new stone that had rolled in.

"You're here?"

"Were you getting beaten while I was gone?"

"No, no. No one hit me."

Portly welcomed Vlad by holding out sausages piled higher than the food on his tray.

"Damn, I missed these meats."

"Eat a lot."

Without even picking up a fork, Vlad grabbed the sausages with his bare hands.

Having successfully swallowed down his gloomy feelings along with the salty juices, Vlad wore a truly satisfied expression.

"This is it."

When he was in Deirmar, he had been eating things like salad made with lemon sauce and healthy bread.

They had certainly been things Alicia had specially brought out for honored guests, and Joseph had been very pleased with them as well, but Vlad had not liked them much at all.

It was not that they were completely tasteless, but honestly, they tasted bad.

Because to a growing boy, there was probably nothing as delicious as meat.

"Flavor is all about salt and sugar after all."

"Right. That is the truth."

Listening to Portly's sincere agreement, Vlad took a big bite of sausage and looked around.

"..."

Everyone was glancing at him.

"Does everyone know?"

"More or less..."

Portly scratched his head with a subtle smile.

He hoped that what he was doing now would not look like a shallow favor expecting something in return.

"... I see."

Vlad sucked the meat juices from his fingers and sank into thought.

Seeing the squires' attitudes, he somehow felt as if he were sitting in a place where he should not be.

Though he had no intention of leaving.

"By the way, what are you going to do during this vacation?"

"Vacation?"

When an unexpected word came out of Portly's mouth, Vlad could only be puzzled.

"You didn't know? The squires all received vacation this week. It's a regular vacation that happens about twice a year."

All the squires here, including Portly, were children sent from good houses, even if they were not all noble families.

Naturally, such squires had to be handled with care.

That was why the Bayezid Family regularly gave the squires vacations, to relieve their accumulated tension and fatigue.

"... Do I get a vacation too?"

But Vlad was a person with nowhere to go.

There was a place he missed, but to return there, he would need to prepare himself in many ways.

Watching Vlad's eyes turn blank for a moment, Portly continued.

"... Then do you want to come to my house? My father says he would like to formally invite you."

"Your house?"

Some squires whose homes were far away visited friends' houses instead of going around in groups by themselves.

It was to form another field of connections there.

"Actually, I've never brought a friend home before..."

"So you had no results."

Thinking of Portly's circumstances, Vlad nodded.

They had somehow pushed him in as a squire, telling him to build connections if nothing else, only for nothing but bitter news to return.

That was why the interest the Family Head of the Kannor Family had in the blond boy now attracting public attention was extraordinary.

Not only from the position of a Family Head, but also from the position of a father, Portly's father very much wanted to meet the boy named Vlad.

"Our house definitely knows how to treat guests."

"Hm."

Vlad began seriously considering Portly's offer.

The mission in Deirmar had been a series of constant tension.

Now he also wanted to eat freshly grilled meat instead of sausages.

"You said you were looking for a horse, right?"

"Hm?"

And Portly knew well what Vlad wanted besides meat.

"Like I said before, our house mainly does livestock raising and animal husbandry. We may not be the best family in the North in that field, but at least we can arrange horses around this area."

"... Oh."

That was impressive.

This would be hard to refuse.

"I'll ask if I have a vacation first..."

"I heard there are even a few with better bloodlines than Sir Jager's horse."

"I'll ask for it. I think I can probably get it."

Joseph would find him a horse on his own, but there was nothing bad about looking in advance.

For all he knew, it might be better to see for himself and find one that suited him than to receive one from someone else.

"Oof!"

Vlad struck the back of Portly's head as if proud of him.

"Good."

Whether Portly was flustered or not, Vlad merely smiled.