Chapter 16 : Chapter 16
Chapter 16: The Key
Medeoban returned to the Senate of Elders, leading Orde. He said they would discuss Simurtr's treatment together.
Simurtr had already caused a huge incident, and Medeoban called it a 'discussion'… but Aran knew the current situation was a positive one.
“What on earth were you thinking?”
But Meram was furious.
Simurtr realized that fact the moment their eyes met. So he glared at Aran, who was sitting next to him.
“She's his guardian, isn't she? She had to know.”
“Why bother bringing up something that was resolved well?”
“Hiding it isn't always the best solution, is it?”
Simurtr couldn't answer.
It was because of the intense glare from Meram next to him.
“What would you have done if he had really tried to kill you then?”
“I trusted Meram's mentor, the Head of the 6th Sword here.”
“What if the Head of the Sword had sided with the Head of the Senate of Elders?”
“Then I would have to trust her.”
Simurtr pointed to the shadow on the floor.
“I don't know why, but she seems to be on my side, doesn't she?”
The green shadow rose slightly and nodded up and down.
“What is that.”
“A Degrate.”
At Simurtr's words, Meram covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn't known that the one who had been so obediently following Simurtr was one of those notoriously infamous assassins.
“Why are you here?”
“……”
When Aran asked, the thing that had popped out went back into the floor.
“Looks like she doesn't like Aran?”
“What good would it do for us to be on good terms?”
Aran replied as if it was no big deal.
In the first place, Aran did not like gloomy groups like the Degrate.
“Did you really trust that person?”
For a moment, Aran's face became serious.
“She is not a member of the main house. Though we have a cooperative relationship, she is no different from a stranger. That's the kind of relationship it is. Let alone the Degrate, who are no different from butchers.”
The shadow wavered.
A faint killing intent leaked out, but when Simurtr extended his hand, it became quiet as if by a lie.
“If they're butchers just for killing people around, then the heroes are all butchers too. Aren't they?”
“I don't think the heroes would kill people so indiscriminately.”
“Are you sure?”
“……”
Aran held his tongue.
Exa alone had killed quite a lot.
“Don't worry. I trusted Aran too.”
Simurtr grinned.
He said that, but honestly, he didn't trust him that much. He remembered that he was his escort in his past life, and had followed him on the battlefield calling him 'Young Master, Young Master'.
‘But he's still in Mectera.’
That fact bothered him. Did Aran truly know the truth about Mectera? That question had been surfacing ever since they met again.
If Mectera had been involved in the betrayal… what about Aran? The only person Simurtr trusted in Mectera right now was Meram.
“…What did you base that on?”
“They say you're called the Mectera Ideology Injector. You're Meram's mentor. I figured, surely you wouldn't kill me.”
Simurtr knew Medeoban's temperament.
Though it had been distorted, other parts were the same as in the past.
He thought he would yield at that point, and he really did.
Of course, he wasn't certain.
‘He probably didn't want to take any unnecessary risks.’
Because Jahar and Ael were the important direct descendants.
In the first place, it was a problem that could have been easily solved just by taking an elixir.
Simurtr had merely provided Medeoban with a reason to break his stubbornness.
‘Well. It's not like I had any intention of holding back either.’
Emotion is the greatest fuel a human possesses.
The argument that one must discard emotions to enter a high state is the bullshit of scholars who only study theory.
At least, Exa did not become strong that way. His master was the same. Instinct and intuition. Exa prioritized what his master was certain was the most important.
‘Just try doing as you please for now. If something feels off, don't do it.’
Whenever Exa asked something, his master had said that. It was the reason he had participated in the war.
“There is nothing as irrational and vague as a hunch. You should have thought of the worst.
You should have had at least minimal safety measures.”
Meram nodded at Aran's rebuke.
‘If I have to worry about such things, how am I supposed to get my revenge.’
The only people who assume the worst in every situation are those with something to protect. Simurtr… was no longer one of them.
The war was over, and he was reborn. There was no need to assume such things for every matter. What was there to lose when he had already died once?
‘It might have been different in my past life.’
The Exa of his past life had something to protect. Just like Medeoban. Exa had to spare the lives of his soldiers, and Medeoban had to preserve the main house.
The only difference was the method. While the retired Medeoban played it safe, Exa offered his own body.
He saved his soldiers and stood at the very front line himself. He focused the enemies' attention with the mana of the Star breaker.
‘This time, I just have to not die.’
A chance for revenge? That was certainly precious, but there was no chance of dying in this incident.
He would have just been kicked out. Even if a battle had occurred, Simurtr was confident he would have survived.
‘Even if Aran had joined in, I would have definitely survived. Semenu was right next to me.’
Although she couldn't become the head of the Degrate, Semenu was Semenu. If his guess was right, Semenu's illusions were probably more fearsome than the current head of the Degrate.
‘Though I'll have to change that perception soon.’
Simurtr slightly extended his hand towards the shadow. As if cheering in response, Semenu's shadow climbed onto his hand.
Even though he had pushed her away like that, this girl was still taking his side.
“Don't do that from next time. I almost lost face in front of Meram. It was something the Head of the Sword couldn't help with either.”
“It all turned out well.”
“You were lucky.”
“My ability was good, I'd say.”
“……”
Aran was at a loss for words at the arrogant attitude.
It was also because he couldn't find anything to rebut.
“Would you have done that even if I wasn't a Sword Master? I think not.”
Aran unconsciously nodded.
If it were just outstanding talent, he would have been concerned, but if that talent was transcendent, it was a different story.
Medeoban had been afraid of Simurtr's potential. But after confirming his Sword Aura, that was now a thing of the past.
‘Who could abandon a monster who reached the level of a Sword Master at the age of 16.’
Did a family exist in this world that would cast out such a genius? Aran shook his head inwardly.
The imperial family, and the other Hero Families, would all treat him with great care. Even the Exa in his memory was not this much.
“…So when did you become one?”
Meram asked. They had lived together for 7 years, yet she knew nothing. His sword ki was surprising enough, but he had something else hidden?
“This year?”
“……”
It was not an unstable stage of just having settled in.
In Aran's mind, the Sword Aura Simurtr had shown was still vivid.
It was already close to perfection. Though he lacked mana due to his young age, that was not a big problem.
In a world where countless people could not even reach sword ki even if they dedicated their entire lives.
“How on earth did you do it?”
“I can't tell you that. Jahar and Ael aren't here.”
Simurtr grinned at Aran.
***
Semenu revealed herself after Aran had left the annex.
“Are you going to follow me?”
The moment Simurtr was about to enter the bathroom to wash, a shadow rose.
“We used to wash together in the past.”
“With whom?”
“With the Captain.”
“But not with me.”
Simurtr let out a sigh.
They say history is carved by the survivors.
“Don't come in.”
“Okay.”
“Not even with shadows.”
“…I can't?”
“You can't.”
Simurtr sat Semenu on the bed and entered the bathroom.
“One hour.”
When he came out after washing, she was waiting for him in the exact same posture he had left her in.
“What.”
“It took one hour.”
“I tend to wash for a long time.”
Simurtr's long bath time was one of the things Meram always pointed out.
The memory of not being able to wash during the war was still vivid. Even if his body was drenched in the blood of friend and foe, there was no time to wash.
The mages, wanting to save their mana, wouldn't even easily cast the simple cleaning magic. They didn't like Exa that much.
‘The Magic Tower is all like that.’
Very rarely, there were mages who had a falling out with the Magic Tower. The mage who was in the Baperr unit was like that.
‘I wonder what she's doing.’
She had said she was promised an apprenticeship with a sage after the war ended. That she had received an offer from the Sage's Castle in the west.
“The Captain also takes an hour.”
“Don't lie. Where would you find the time for that during a war.”
“When we weren't busy. When we were busy, Melia washed him. With magic. We washed together then.”
Ah.
“Who's Melia.”
“You know.”
“I don't.”
“She's our mage.”
“Our?”
“Yes. Our unit.”
Simurtr felt frustrated.
Pretending not to know naturally dragged out the conversation.
“What does that person do.”
“Are you curious?”
“Not really.”
Seeing Semenu's attitude as if she was certain of his identity made him feel like a fool himself.
“The Captain would be curious.”
“That's why I'm not that curious.”
“You asked.”
“……”
Simurtr held back a sigh.
He didn't know why she was so certain. The Sword Net? That was certainly something to be suspicious of, but to this extent just because of that?
The white mana was grounds to suspect the Star-Breaking Style, but his attainment was still low, so it couldn't be clear proof.
If you searched the world, you could find quite a few people with white mana. Though there would be none as intense as the Star-Breaking Style. Anyway.
‘Besides, it's reincarnation.’
Reincarnation. Very few humans believed in that concept.
The Ruo Holy See, the most powerful denomination on the continent, was certain of the afterlife. Reincarnation or transmigration were heretical concepts.
Far from being caught, it should normally be harder to convince someone that he had been reincarnated.
‘It's a situation where death has already been confirmed.’
That was why he hadn't bothered to hide the Star-Breaking Style until now.
The Exa of his past life was already dead. The traitors had announced it, and they and the Emperor visited the memorial every year.
Exa's death was faster than Simurtr's birth. That was what reincarnation meant in the first place. They couldn't live in the same era, could they?
‘Let alone reincarnation, it's normal for no one to believe it even if I claimed to be his successor.’
No matter how much he boasted of his mana, he would only be considered an unusual person, and no one would think that Simurtr was related to Exa.
“Melia is at the Sage's Castle.”
Except for her.
He did manage to hear the information he wanted. But Simurtr felt very uneasy about the Semenu in front of him.
“Why do you think I'm the Captain?”
“The Sword Net.”
“I don't know what that is.”
“The Star-Breaking Style?”
“My mana is simply due to my constitution.”
“Your way of speaking?”
“Isn't that because you've already decided I'm the Captain, so it sounds that way to you?
How common is this way of speaking? If you go to a mercenary guild, there are a shit ton of them.”
“People become talkative when they have something to hide. The Captain said so.”
“……”
At those words, Simurtr shut his mouth.
“Are you hiding something?”
“I'm not.”
“You've stopped talking.”
“It's because I've said all I have to say.”
“I have a lot to say.”
Semenu got up from the bed. She pulled Simurtr and sat him on the bed.
“To me?”
“Yes. To the Captain.”
She sat on Simurtr's thigh as if it were a chair. Semenu looked up at Simurtr while swinging her feet that didn't reach the floor.
“I told you, I'm not the Captain.”
He said that, but Simurtr didn't move. No, he couldn't.
If it were anyone else, he would have kicked them out long ago. 21 years. She was a unit member he was meeting for the first time in a whopping 21 years.
‘Why are you looking at me like that again.’
In this situation, Simurtr was not cold-hearted enough to push Semenu away.
***
“I have to go now.”
Though she said she had a lot to say, Semenu got up soon.
“Where.”
“Next mission.”
A hint of regret lingered on Semenu's face. It was quite a rare sight. She was a child who rarely expressed her emotions.
“Mission?”
“Yes.”
“You're still doing missions? At your level?”
Yes.
At Semenu's answer, Simurtr furrowed his brow.
“Why? You were part of a hero's unit. Wouldn't that be enough hardship for the Degrate to acknowledge you?”
It was an era of peace, after all.
Considering the hardships during the Doom War, Semenu should have retired as soon as the war ended. But she was still on active duty? When she should be playing around 24/7?
“…Are you angry?”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
“I said I'm not.”
The corners of Semenu's mouth rose slightly.
Even that didn't look good to Simurtr.
What was so good about still being active? He didn't know who the current head of the Degrate was, but someday he would definitely….
“I'm doing it because I want to.”
“…You?”
“Yes.”
“Why…”
“The Captain would be curious.”
“…I won't ask.”
“Okay.”
Simurtr spoke to Semenu who was about to turn into a shadow.
“I'm not the Captain.”
“Okay.”
“Are you going to believe me?”
“I'll do that.”
“Don't just brush it off.”
“I won't say it.”
“Haa.”
There was no getting through to her.
Simurtr wiped his face. Why? On what grounds was she so certain?
“I'm going.”
Semenu said that and then sank into the shadow pooled on the floor.
“Ah.”
Then she popped her head out again.
“Aran Lubeil.”
She mentioned the Head of the 6th Sword.
“Be careful.”
“Of what.”
At Simurtr's question, the head that had disappeared popped out again.
“Be careful of Aran Lubeil.”
“Why?”
“He hates us.”
“Us?”
“The Baperr unit.”
“Why?”
At Semenu's words, Simurtr's eyes widened. It was the first time he was hearing this.
“Aran Lubeil is crazy.”
“What?”
“I'm going.”
“You have to finish what you're saying before you go.”
“Run if it's dangerous.”
“This is Mectera.”
“I gave you the key.”
Finally, the head popped back into the shadow.
“I'll come again.”
The last words echoed faintly in the room.
***
Time flows quickly.
Perhaps it was because he had overcome the hurdle that was Medeoban. It was around the time a month had passed that he visited the west annex.
“What can I do for you?”
Aran greeted Medeoban who had knocked on the door of the west annex. He seemed quite used to opening the door. For Medeoban, it was an absurd situation.
“Did you like him that much?”
Medeoban asked sarcastically.
He wouldn't even look at the direct descendants.
“…Not to that extent yet.”
“Yet? I should have tried to kick him out somehow.”
“If you had, there would have been a bloodbath.”
“And he would have died. Were you planning on taking his side?”
That smiling expression was proof that the anxiety Simurtr had caused was not unfounded.
In the end, swordsmen were bound to be drawn to more skilled swordsmen.
“The Degrate was behind him. You know her, don't you?”
“They call her the Hidden Phantasm.”
Semenu Degrate.
A powerhouse who refused the position of the Phantasm, even though she surpassed the current one.
He couldn't admit it, but her power surpassed Aran's. She was on par with a fully recovered Medeoban.
She, who had been a member of Exa Mectera's unit, had grown even stronger since the end of the war.
“You and that little brat.”
Medeoban shook his head.
The Degrate were a cooperative party. It meant he vaguely knew their circumstances.
“…Sir Simurtr probably had no intention of actually doing it either.”
“You are quite generous.”
The main house was generous to strong and talented swordsmen. But there must have been another reason for Aran to act like that.
“It's just that their dispositions are similar. Is that mana of his so important? What meaning does it have?”
Aran just smiled bitterly. Medeoban shook his head. Head of the 6th Sword. That position itself was ridiculous in the first place. Wasn't it for the purpose of chasing the traces of a dead man?
“Enough. When have you ever listened to me? Just don't cause any unnecessary trouble in the main house.”
“That won't happen.”
“Good. Where is he?”
“He is behind the annex.”
“Don't follow. I have no intention of doing anything foolish.”
Medeoban went around the annex. A rather well-maintained lawn. A single tombstone.
Simurtr was swinging his sword, maintaining as much distance as possible from the tombstone.
“Head of the Senate of Elders?”
“Is the towel for show?”
Medeoban said, looking at Simurtr wiping his sweat with his shirt.
“It's going to be washed anyway, isn't it? It's better to take care of it all with one thing.”
“Tsk. Is there any use in saving so much?”
“Does the former Sword Master say such things? You, who also ran the family yourself.”
“I'm saying it because I know better than you. It's useless to save a towel like that.”
“So you know that saving it is useless.”
“……”
Medeoban's eyes narrowed.
“Are you not afraid of me? If you have reached the starting point, you should feel it vaguely.
There are no children for you to take hostage here either.”
The starting point.
That was how Medeoban described the realm of Sword Aura.
He was not wrong. One had to be at that level to be able to entrust their life to their own skill on the battlefield, not to luck.
“What grandson is afraid of their grandfather?”
“Is there a grandson who blackmails their grandfather?”
Medeoban replied without thinking. Listening to him, he was at a loss for words.
“It is the way of grandsons to cry and blackmail at the drop of a hat. That is the charm of a grandson.”
“…Alright. Let's go.”
Arguing any further was meaningless. In fact, it was ridiculous for someone his age to be arguing with his grandson.
He was suddenly reminded of a month ago. A grandfather who tried to cast out his grandson because he was scared of him. Come to think of it, it was a ridiculous sight.
No matter how much it was for the sake of the main house, if others saw it, they would laugh at him for the rest of his life.
Of course, how many would not be afraid when they were in that position.
“Where are we going?”
“The repository. We both have business there, don't we?”
“Are you taking it today?”
“Yes. It's better to take it as soon as possible.”
As long as he had accepted Simurtr, Medeoban needed to recover.
“If one is not enough, I will give you one.”
Simurtr had obtained the right to use the repository.
A total of two. One he had heard from Medeoban's own mouth. And one from passing the Selection Ceremony.
“You'd use what you've just earned on me?”
He talks about being a grandson, is he planning to actually act like one?
“Didn't you say the elixirs were for the successors? Then wouldn't I have a share too?”
“…One is enough.”
As I thought. Medeoban looked at Simurtr with a newly jaded expression. He was not the type to lose out.
He usually didn't think much of the weak Orde, but this wicked grandson needed to take after his adoptive father's personality.
“Let's go right away.”
“Do I not need to change clothes?”
“You'll be doing it again after we get back anyway. Save it.”
“Why save something that's useless to save?”
“……”
“But I will listen since it's my grandfather's words.”
As a red tinge began to show on Medeoban's face, Simurtr nodded. Teasing had to stay within the lines to be teasing; if it crossed them, it became a fight.
“But do we have to go right away?”
“What now.”
Medeoban's words became shorter.
They say an old man becomes a child when he gets old. Perhaps it was because his mana circuit was contaminated.
‘He was quite fine in the past.’
Medeoban, whom he had met on the battlefield someday, had treated Exa as the Grand General, not his former adopted son.
It was a pleasing treatment, and a stark contrast to the other rotten nobles.
“Still, since you've come, shouldn't you at least say hello before you go?”
But this was neither teasing nor a fight. Simurtr erased the smile he had been wearing and spoke.
“I have already met the Head of the 6th Sword.”
At Medeoban's words, Simurtr pointed at the tombstone.
“I mean my mother. She was still your daughter-in-law, wasn't she? Unlike someone, she never caused any trouble. Please do it just once.”
“……”
his environment, he repeated his training. How hard must he have worked.”
This brother of hers was genuinely proud of Simurtr. As his younger brother.
“I have heard of Simurtr's daily routine from the Head of the 6th Sword. There is not a single Was there such a custom?
It was a fact he hadn't known in his past