Chapter 29 : Chapter 29
Chapter 29: Ael Mectera
“How about you get treated before we go?”
“No.”
There was nothing more to do.
Andre Koitro and Memen Artang were dead.
Juyce was also dead, but that was nothing to worry about.
Ael thought recovering from the internal injuries should be a priority, but I wanted to do that at the main castle. Every time I tried to get some sleep, the disgusting sound of people praising Akarr Bahab from outside would ring out.
‘And tomorrow is the fucking Saintess, they say.’
The Hero Festival was truly a terrible festival.
If he were to kill even the Emperor, the first thing Simurtr would do is get rid of that festival.
‘…The Emperor.’
The previous Emperor had not passed away.
For Simurtr, this was one of the more pleasant pieces of news. From the circumstances, the previous Emperor’s involvement was certain.
‘The 2nd Princess.’
The Emperor and the five heroes.
The Emperor who was praised along with the heroes was not the previous Emperor. It was the 2nd Princess who ascended to the throne along with the end of the war.
In Simurtr’s memory, she was not there at the moment of death. Perhaps she was not involved.
…He had thought so once.
‘No way.’
The Doom War was… a war that had been endured with an extreme focus on the strong.
The Doom Species. Those who had falsely named themselves Doom.
The human side was always at a disadvantage. They were pushed back numerically and qualitatively.
That was the reason Exa in his past life had planned a surprise attack. Because it was certain that they would lose if they kept dragging it on.
The reason he insisted on going alone was because the other strong ones feared that operation.
‘There’s no way she didn’t know.’
Those who were called heroes were among the strongest in the allied forces. Beings who could block the advance of the Doom Species single-handedly.
There was no way the 2nd Princess, who was in charge of the allied forces’ command, did not know the movements of such beings. Simurtr was convinced that the current Emperor was involved.
“Simyun. Simyuun.”
Ael trotted and stuck to Simurtr’s side. There weren’t many people on the main street.
It wasn't because Akarr Bahab's day was less popular than Basor's day. It was because the inn had exploded.
The guards stationed here and there said they had not yet grasped the situation.
“What.”
“Can’t we stay for a few more days?”
“No.”
“Just two days, no, just one.”
Ael clung persistently.
Simurtr, who saw her face, flinched without realizing it. Her eyes, which always shone brightly with interest, were lifeless.
‘Like a rain-soaked dog.’
An already young kid pleading with such eyes made his heart weaken.
“Do you want to see the Hero Festival that much?”
If she weren't a minor, he would have kicked her away cleanly. Simurtr said with a sigh.
The ones the Hero Festival praised were fake heroes, but apart from that, the peace that had come to the world was real.
If the children he had encountered during the Doom War had been born in this era. Ael and they were no different.
Those children also had the right to live like Ael. Even if they weren't from a noble family, they had the right to enjoy a festival.
With the same look in their eyes as Ael, playing the same games as the children running down the main street over there.
There was no reason to see blood and flesh, no need to stab and kill something. They didn't have to pick up a sword to live.
Yes, if they had been born in this era.
In this peaceful generation. They would live worrying not about how not to die, but about what to play tomorrow.
“Just one day.”
Simurtr said with a sigh.
It was because he had projected the children from the war onto Ael.
New information that needed to be learned had emerged.
The children with whom he had even a little connection. What happened to those children?
How many lived, and how many died?
“Thanks. But it’s not because of the Hero Festival. Of course, I’m curious, but. Yeah.”
He thought she was saying it to protect her pride, but seeing her serious expression, it seemed she was being sincere.
“Then?”
“It’s a bit difficult to go now. I need to prepare myself mentally.”
“What preparation do you need? You’re going to your own house.”
“Our house.”
“So what’s the problem.”
“It’s also Mother’s house.”
“…Lady Arnea is returning?”
“She said she would be back before my first mission ended. You have to be careful with your words when you go.”
“I’m always the type to think before I speak.”
“Then your thoughts are ridiculously short. Or you’re stupid.”
“Actually, sometimes I speak without thinking.”
“……”
“So what’s the problem with Lady Arnea.”
Simurtr stopped walking.
He had once told the siblings.
He wasn't interested in Mectera, so don't provoke him like Janya.
‘It’s not something to say in a letter.’
She said she hadn't been able to yet.
That was understandable, since Arnea wasn’t at the main castle.
“What’s the problem.”
Simurtr stopped walking and looked back.
Ael, who had been following him closely, was standing still and fidgeting with her fingers.
“…I don’t want to fall out with you.”
“But.”
“My brother feels even more strongly about it. He wants to have a fair competition with you.”
“I have no intention of competing. The Sword Master is Jahar. Or you. Ah. There’s Beden too. You three compete.”
“I’m not a competitor.”
“Who says. Jahar?”
“No. If I said I wanted to be the Sword Master, my brother would probably be happy. He would smile like a pushover, saying he hoped it would be a good competition between siblings.”
Simurtr nodded.
It was because he could picture the readily smiling Jahar.
There was no one who suited Mectera as much as he did.
“Then who. Lady Arnea?”
“Everyone except my brother and you. Father too. No, Father probably doesn't have any thoughts. He’s such a soft person.”
“That’s probably true.”
Simurtr nodded absently again.
The root of all the problems in the main castle. Perhaps it was the current Sword Master, Orde. The one who was inevitably chosen as the family head because Gerehk had died.
The soft-hearted Orde. Even after becoming the Sword Master, he was no different from the rumors he had heard in his past life.
“Grandfather has probably leaned towards my brother. My talent is less than my brother’s.”
“……”
“Mother too. Mother chose my brother since he was young. She said I didn't suit the main castle.”
She doesn’t suit it.
Simurtr thought to himself. Ael’s talent was different from that of the Mectera bloodline. That innate Strong Body. That resembled the one from the Sword Tower.
Dujeu, a squad member from his past life, also had such a Strong Body. Thinking about it now, he was even envious. He had never thought that in his past life.
“She probably noticed I wasn't interested, but still. Mother is stricter than Grandfather when it comes to talent. My talent probably wasn’t to her liking.”
Where was Ael’s maternal family from again? Thinking about it, he had never heard. Meram had mentioned Beden’s maternal family, but she had never mentioned the siblings’ maternal family.
‘A martial family?’
That seemed highly likely.
If she had discriminated based on talent from a young age, it meant she had a discerning eye.
To judge a child’s talent and concentrate all support on the child with potential. Such an act was common in prestigious martial families.
“So you’re not even going to compete?”
“Yeah. I can’t beat my brother.”
“Because you lack talent?”
“Yeah.”
A kid is a kid. Simurtr felt it anew.
Even if she usually acted playful and relaxed, everyone has their shadows.
‘What a load of bullshit…’
But in Simurtr’s view, it was a ridiculous shadow and grudge. He felt his chest tighten for a moment. Because it was so absurd.
Medeoban, Orde, Arnea, and Ael.
All of them.
“Bullshit.”
Simurtr let out his displeasure with a simple, hollow laugh.
“Huh?”
“Stop with the bullshit. How old are you? Aren’t you 17?”
“……”
“Saying you lack talent is not something you can say at that age.”
Ael, startled, clamped her lips shut.
“They can discriminate. I understand. Talent shows from a young age.”
“……”
“But the position of Sword Master isn’t decided by that. The old man is leaning towards Jahar? Fine. That’s probably true. But that’s your fault too.”
“……”
“You should have worked at least harder than Jahar. If you lack talent, you should fill that gap with time. You should have saved even a little and dedicated all possible time to it.”
By the time he had said that much, Ael felt her vision blurring. Simurtr’s face became increasingly hazy and spread out, and his build grew larger.
“Of course, you’re still young. So is Jahar. You can feel it’s unfair. It’s natural. The more prestigious the family, the more they value talent.”
“You don’t know.”
The tears, like dew on a leaf, slowly welled up and began to grow larger. Ael also knew what Simurtr was saying.
…But those words were words that Simurtr, of all people, should not be saying.
“You’re different. You who were born with talent don’t know.”
The welled-up water finally flowed down.
It began to drip down her nose, lips, and chin to the floor.
“The kind of talent to become a Sword Master at that age. What do you know about people like me…”
The hem of the shirt held in both hands crumpled greatly.
Then, with a pull, the complex wrinkles straightened out and became stiff, as if they would tear.
“I can say it because it’s me.”
Emotion filled his eyes. Anger, emptiness, betrayal. Simurtr did not avoid it and met those eyes.
“What do you know.”
“How many hours a day do you train.”
“Eight hours…?”
“And sleep.”
“Four hours…”
“How many meals do you eat.”
“Three.”
“What about the remaining eleven hours.”
“Huh?”
“Eight hours of training, four hours of sleep, one hour of meals. What do you do with the remaining eleven hours?”
At Simurtr’s words, Ael’s pupils looked up. What did I do during that time? To be honest, she couldn’t remember.
…All she could remember was the training time. Or before falling asleep. Or the scene of eating.
All were the times she had told Simurtr. The remaining eleven hours? Ael’s pupils rolled here and there.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
“……”
“It means it wasn’t important. You probably spent it meaninglessly. If you had done something necessary, it would surely have remained in your memory.”
“You… you! Do you remember everything?”
“Me? I remember everything.”
“Tell me.”
“……”
“See. You can’t do it when I tell you to…”
“I wake up at 5 in the morning. I check my magic while bathing. I eat my first meal at 6. And then I use my sword in the backyard until my second meal.”
“……”
“I eat my second meal. And then I use my sword in the backyard. Then I eat my third meal and use my sword in the backyard.”
I eat my fourth meal and use my sword in the backyard.
I eat my fifth meal and use my sword in the backyard.
When night falls, I have a simple late-night snack and practice magic control in my room.
“……”
“I do that every day. If I don't have a separate schedule.”
Simurtr’s tone was calm, as if that was how daily life should naturally be.
It was the same in his past life. Exa, the half-wit of Mectera Castle, held a sword all day long.
He swung his sword even without knowing magic, and at night he meditated until he fell asleep, wanting to feel mana.
When he was kicked out of the castle, he wandered for a while, but after meeting his master, he found his daily routine again.
Engraving the Star-Breaking Style into his soul, perceiving mana, accepting magic. He was greatly pleased that his sleep time was reduced thanks to that magic.
The training ground, meals, the bed. His memories with his master consisted only of those things. There were also memories of visiting a neighboring territory to buy necessary things, but those were few and far between.
The master Simurtr remembered was always holding a sword, ate his meals with a sword, and slept using a sword as a pillow.
“I have the right to speak. Because I try harder than you.”
Ael’s tears had long since dried up.
She had lamented her situation, but she realized that situation was sloth.
“If you want to judge talent, judge it after matching all conditions with the target. Only then do you earn the right to whine. When you have put in the same amount of effort as Jahar.”
“……”
“If you want to compete and win, surpass those conditions. Invest more than your opponent.
Only then can you compete.”
“……”
“It’s natural. Talent is inherently unfair. Unfair? Then don’t do it. You don’t have to.”
Ael, who was listening quietly, tilted her head.
Just hearing the words, it sounded like he was criticizing her, but his voice was warm.
“No one can force you. You can stand still and whine, or you can stay until the end and compete. It means you can do whatever you want.”
“Huh?”
Somehow, it felt like the conclusion was flowing strangely.
“The heir has been decided? Bullshit. Who knows if Jahar will die on this mission right now.
The old man? Ignore him. He still hasn’t come to his senses.”
Medeoban was also a problem here.
The fact that he was leaning towards Jahar could be Ael’s misunderstanding, but the fact that he instilled such a misunderstanding was itself a mistake.
Medeoban should not have shown it.
Not to a full-grown adult, but to a kid. Even though he had no choice but to make Orde the family head because Gerehk died. He still hadn't come to his senses.
“Arnea is the same. Comparing the measure of talent is a natural thing, but talent doesn’t prove everything.”
“……”
“To put it bluntly, Jahar could die, or he could give up. Just like the previous Sword Master died. Arnea should have given a fair chance.”
“…You really are the type to speak without thinking.”
“I’m angry right now.”
To a mere seventeen-year-old kid.
Neither Medeoban’s reaction nor Arnea’s policy sat well with him. The same went for Orde, who was just standing by.
“You said I was wrong earlier.”
Ael, who had rubbed her face, smiled gently. A hint of laughter seeped into her trembling voice.
“Of course. You were wrong too.”
“…You mean person.”
“But you can be. You’re not even an adult yet. It’s an age where you can’t be held responsible and can run away. You can be wrong for another 2, 3 years.”
It was an era of peace.
The children of this era could do so.
It was an era where you wouldn't be killed for looking away.
“Will you be on my side until then?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what about after that?”
“Then you have to do it yourself. You’ll be an adult.”
“Then from then on, I’ll be on your side. Until you become an adult.”
“I don’t need it.”
An indifferent tone. Nevertheless, Ael smiled brightly.
‘Is this a normal conversation?’
Deban just watched the whole scene awkwardly.