Chapter 82 : Chapter 82
Chapter 82: Farewell (1)
“I will go with you.”
Aran said as soon as they left Bahab.
“That won't do.”
“6th Head of the Sword, that would be troublesome…”
Simurtr and Orde refused flatly.
“How can I send the young master alone into enemy territory. He needs someone to assist him.”
“Even if he needs someone, that person certainly isn't you, Aran.”
A simple swordsman being a house guest and the famous 6th Head of the Sword being a house guest had a distinctly different feel.
If Aran were to stay at Bahab, the world would disgrace Mectera. Rumors would spread that the Empire’s sword had bowed its head to Bahab.
“Then Deban again…”
“No, not Deban. He decided to look after his siblings at the main castle, didn't he? We barely managed to reunite them. Are you telling me to tear them apart again?”
Originally, they were going to be left at an orphanage sponsored by Aran, but Medeoban and Orde had made accommodations.
It was a scheme to get on Simurtr’s good side, and at the same time, proof of Deban's outstanding talent.
For Mectera was generous to the talented.
“Then who do you plan to take with you?”
“I’m thinking about it. At most, it would probably be Meram.”
Leave Mectera for Bahab? Why?
It was not an attractive position for swordsmen. Perhaps even Meram would refuse.
“You may take as many as you wish.”
“Nah. It's fine. What’s so great about that place.”
Simurtr also empathized with that sentiment.
They were swordsmen who came to Mectera to cultivate the sword. Those who rejected knighthood. To take them to Bahab was the same as ignoring their convictions.
“You must not go alone.”
Mectera and Bahab had no history of being on good terms. When Gerehk was involved?
That was probably the best moment.
‘Who could it be.’
Not Aran, not Deban.
The other swordsmen would hate it too.
I wanted Meram to stay comfortably in Mectera.
‘Is there no one.’
Simurtr said while thinking.
“How about we all have a meal together at the banquet hall when we return? It would be easier for me, the person directly involved, to persuade grandfather.”
“Even so, it won't be allowed.”
This will work.
The moment he saw Orde’s lips curl into a slight smile, Simurtr felt it.
***
“You went to the Black Tower? Not Kainan?”
Upon arriving at the main castle, Simurtr was caught.
He couldn’t even get to the west villa. Simurtr glared at the backs of Orde and Aran, who awkwardly left the spot, saying they had work to do.
“I went to Kainan too. Also went to the Lampina Forest outside the Empire. The scenery there was nice. Shall we go on an outing later?”
“I’m more curious about the scenery of Serepes.”
“Serepes? Don’t go out of your way to visit. Only go when you have business. Otherwise, the types of trash will increase by one.”
“Shouldn’t one experience various environments? I heard that places with high snow are advantageous for magicians.”
“Those bastards don’t really use their bodies much. There are bound to be fewer restrictions.
Various environments. That’s right too.”
“Then it would be right to go and see.”
“Huh? No. You don’t need to go. Just lay some snow on the Sacred Mountain, and that’s a snowy mountain. I can just ask Meram to make some snow. I’ll let you know later.”
“Thank you.”
“Brother!”
Ael shrieked.
“What is it, sister.”
“Is that the right reaction, brother? Simyun destroyed the Black Tower, they said. Simyun, not Father!”
“I know. I heard it together with you, sister.”
“Again! Again! Again with that tone. Can’t you stop it? It’s because I’m really starting to want to kill you.”
“Sister, you have not yet surpassed me.”
“Aaaargh!”
Ael stopped screaming after making eye contact with the castle gate guard.
“Why? Why did you go without telling us?”
“How could I tell you and go? I wasn't even in Mectera.”
Simurtr said.
“You should have told us when you returned after it was all over!”
“You guys were on a mission.”
“After it was over, when you were going to Bahab, the waiting room. There were plenty of chances! We talked so much.”
“I missed the timing.”
“Aaaargh!”
Jahar waited until Ael clamped her mouth shut before speaking.
“Sister. You should not blame Simyun, but praise him and be grateful.”
“Why? Why? What is there to praise, to be grateful for?”
“Thanks to Simyun, our younger brother is alive. Safely, no, I can't say he is safe, but he still returned alive.”
“……”
For a moment, Ael shut her mouth.
He wasn’t talking about the younger brother, Simurtr. He was talking about the third child, Beden.
“I hate Beden.”
Ael pouted.
When she thought of Beden who had lost his mother, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity, but on the other hand, she also thought of it as karma.
The ones who killed Janya were, in the first place, the faction she had brought with her.
“Beden is only sixteen, sister. You too did many hateful things at that age. In fact, you used to get along well with Beden.”
“Not anymore.”
“That is how one changes. Just as you changed as your childhood mischief disappeared, Beden will change too. As an older sister, you should look after him.”
“……”
“He may have already changed. He is living alone in a cabin on the Sacred Mountain. It must be an apology and reflection towards Elder Kelken. I hear he is engrossed in training, even staying up all night.”
Jahar, who considered Simurtr, who was not related by blood, as a real brother, thought the same of Beden.
‘He’s just like his father.’
Simurtr thought, looking at Jahar.
He was broad-minded. It was almost apologetic to compare him to Hejel Bahab. That one was doing all sorts of things to keep her brother in check.
“Your answer.”
“…Alright. I’ll try.”
“Yes. Let’s do that for now.”
Jahar smiled gently and stroked Ael’s head. Certainly. Medeoban’s eye might not have been wrong.
He had a somewhat eccentric side, but Jahar had the dignity to be a master.
“Jahar.”
Simurtr called out without thinking.
“Yes, brother. Ah. I didn’t say it either. Thank you for saving Beden. Truly.”
“Forget that. Beden asked me to pass on a message.”
“To this brother?”
Jahar looked expectant.
“Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
“Beden said he’s going to become the Sword Master. By defeating you and Ael.”
“Ha!”
While Ael scoffed.
Jahar answered earnestly.
“Good! Very good. I’m glad he’s regained his spirit. Tell him he can come find me anytime… no, I will go and tell him myself. It would be good to train together.”
Wow.
Simurtr was newly impressed.
This guy was truly born with a great capacity.
***
What else was left?
Walking while thinking, Simurtr saw the main gate of the villa and nodded.
“You have arrived.”
Meram.
She stood in front of the open main gate.
As soon as she received the report from the castle gate that I had returned, she must have come out and waited like this.
“Meram, I have something to tell you.”
“As soon as you return?”
“Yeah, let’s go inside first.”
“Ah, Lord Aran is already inside.”
“…Is that so?”
No wonder his resistance on the way here wasn't so severe. It seemed he was waiting to meet his ally.
“You have arrived quickly.”
Meram had gotten used to Aran’s respectful speech.
She was surprised at first, but since they were always together except for when sleeping in the villa.
“What. You haven't told her yet?”
“You should have come a little more slowly.”
Simurtr grinned.
It seemed Aran had not yet been able to tell Meram.
“No matter how much you stop me, it won't work. I am going.”
Bahab's Swelling Flame.
I didn’t know to what extent I would gain from going, but I would be able to steal the basics.
Such confidence had been there since my past life.
“Then this old body will follow you.”
“I told you, you can’t. Where would a Head of the Sword go?”
“I happened to be rewriting my resignation letter.”
At those words, Simurtr looked at the desk.
The pen Aran was holding was for that paper. He had already written half of the reason.
“Well, I’ll be. The fourth child’s escort? They’d be so quick to approve that.”
“Who would refuse if I say I will do it?”
“Who else. The old man.”
“…This time will be different.”
He had failed in his past life.
He could not follow the banished Exa. But this life was different. He had paid for a huge regret, and learned from it. He had vowed not to be swayed by outsiders if they were to meet again.
“Me too. It will be different.”
Regret, reflection, growth, resolve.
Such steps, Simurtr had also experienced.
Simurtr had no intention of making the same mistake, nor of being swept away by emotions and losing an opportunity.
“That’s why I went to Degrate, wasn’t it?”
Just like with the Phantasmal Ability.
Trying to obtain the Swelling Flame was a means to that end. Simurtr was already walking a different path from his past life.
“……”
Aran did not give an answer.
But Aran’s silence was permission. Simurtr knew that.
“You’ve changed, you’ve changed, but you’re still the same.”
“Staying true to one’s original intentions is very important.”
In his life.
Aran had never once managed to break the young master’s stubbornness.
“Excuse me… I would also like to know what you are talking about…”
Meram, who had been listening quietly in the corner, gently raised her hand.
“Ah. Right, Meram.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to Bahab. For a year.”
“What?”
“It just happened. You’ll cheer for me, right? The 6th Head of the Sword here has given his permission.”
Simurtr placed his hand on Aran’s shoulder and said.
Crack. The pen Aran was holding neatly snapped in two.
***
Now, all that was left was Medeoban.
Simurtr soothed the angry Meram and headed to the banquet hall.
“Am I the last one? What about Beden?”
“He says he has no intention of coming out yet.”
Welcoming him was Medeoban, seated at the head of the table.
The fact that Medeoban’s seat was the head of the table meant that today’s banquet was not a family-related matter.
“I wish we had more occasions like this.”
As Medeoban spoke, Orde gave a bitter smile. The siblings avoided their grandfather’s gaze that was scanning the banquet hall. This was a gathering that would only happen again in a year.
“Why is the atmosphere like this? Don't tell me.”
Medeoban’s head snapped around. It was Simurtr. He had a feeling about something, and his eyes naturally narrowed.
“Ha, yes. It must be. I was wondering what you wanted the banquet hall for again.”
Tsk tsk. Medeoban clicked his tongue and said.
“Yes. Well, bring it out quickly. Before the food comes out.”
What? As Simurtr tilted his head, Medeoban continued to speak.
“Haven’t you brought another head? Whose is it this time? Don’t beat around the bush this time, just take it out now. Don’t make this grandfather lose his appetite like last time.”
“…It’s not like that. Where in the world is there a grandfather who treats his grandson like a murderer?”
“What grandfather in the world could stand to see his grandson roll a head on the dinner table?”
“Wouldn’t that be plausible in Degrate?”
“Then a grandfather with a murderer grandson would be there too.”
…It took quite a long time to explain and clarify.
“I will not permit it.”
And, making the time spent on it seem pointless, Medeoban strongly expressed his stance.
“Why not? I’m not going for good, it’s just for a year.”
“Just. Yes, what are you going to do there for just one year?”
“Then shall I stay longer?”
“Mectera is your home, why would you stay there any longer?”
Simurtr remembered Medeoban’s favor that had once given him the creeps.
He hadn’t known the reason, but now he had a rough idea. To indebt him.
‘To receive as much as he has given.’
By treating him well, he must be hoping that Simurtr will treat Mectera well in return.
Even if he didn't become the Sword Master, there was so much a swordsman could contribute to Mectera.
“That’s why I’m saying I’ll only go for a year.”
Otherwise, there was no way he would accept and treat well an adopted son he had even threatened. Simurtr was half-convinced.
But even so, Medeoban would not allow it. It was a part that showed how much Mectera disliked Bahab.
“I asked what you are going there to do.”
“Isn’t it Bahab?”
“Exactly! What is there to learn in that damn household.”
“Why wouldn't there be. The Swelling Flame. Doesn’t Bahab have its secret art?”
“Hah, they said they’d teach you that? That high-and-mighty Bahab?”
Orde, who met Medeoban's eyes, shook his head. Akarr had said he would not teach the Swelling Flame.
“So it’s no. Then why?”“Do I have to be taught to learn it? You learn by watching.”
“What kind of sophistry is that. Speak honestly. Don't tell me you like Bahab more? More than our own castle?”
“What are you talking about. What’s so good about Bahab. I wouldn't have gone either if it weren't for the Swelling Flame.”
That was the truth.
If not for the means called the Swelling Flame, Simurtr would have built a wall with Bahab for the time being.
He would have endured while only gathering information until his level rose enough to interfere.
“So how are you going to learn it!”
Medeoban beat his own chest.
It seemed like he was on the verge of coming over. The thought of losing him to Bahab made him feel like he would die of injustice.
“No, I’m telling you, I’ll just learn it after watching a few times!”
“What?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Th-this punk!”
Bang! Medeoban stood up, hitting the enormous table. That youngest grandson of his had clearly hit puberty.
“What. Can’t a grandson even throw a tantrum at his grandfather?”
Simurtr stood up as well.
However, he did not hit the table.
“Stop…”
“Let’s just watch a little longer, shall we? They’re not going to fight anyway.”
Arnea stopped Orde, who was trying to mediate.
In her eyes, this was a simple happening.
“No way, you punk. You cannot go to Bahab!”
“If I say I’m going, I’m going. You even took the elixir, have you already forgotten the Selection Ceremony? Your grandchildren are all here, you know? Want to do it again?”
“What? This punk is really.”
Jahar was tasting the food that had just started to come out, and Ael was looking at Medeoban with expectant eyes.
‘Grandfather, really.’
He might have accepted Simurtr to use him, but no matter how you look at it, he was a grandfather who was finding his grandson difficult.
How long had it been since they were together, and yet affection had already grown.
‘Both Medeoban and Simurtr.’
The parties involved would never admit it.
“How about this?”
Arnea, who had been watching with a smile,casually blurted out.
“Father cannot understand Simyun’s confidence. And Simyun is frustrated with Father who does not understand it.”
The second-in-command at the banquet was not the Sword Master, but his wife. Orde was silently nodding his head next to her.
“Aye, that is right. Come out, Simyun. I will show you the greatness of the Black Sword.”
At Arnea's words mentioning a duel, Medeoban became triumphant.
“I’m taking my siblings with me.”
“This punk, until the very end.”
As Medeoban’s face flushed red, Arnea spoke again.
“Oh my, Father, you shouldn’t step forward yourself. Then what would be the use of any proof?”
“Huh? Then who will do it? Orde? He’s too soft, he won't do.”
“You have me, don’t you?”
In fact, Arnea.
Wanted to cross swords with Simurtr more than sit at such a banquet.