Chapter 177: The Festival of Swords (20)

Chapter 177: The Festival of Swords (20)

"The Holy Sword. Would you like to have it?"

"What...?"

Ronan frowned. It was as if she was holding the Holy Sword right now. Her expression was so serious that it didn't seem like she was joking at all.

"...Do you know where it is?"

"Yes. I do."

Lynn nodded firmly. Her clear eyes were full of certainty. Ronan raised his hand and lightly flicked her cheek with his index finger.

"Then why don't you take it out?"

"I can't. I thought you'd be so excited that you'd take off all your clothes right away, but your reaction is not as good as I expected. What do you think of the Holy Sword?"

Lynn said, her thinning eyes indicating that she seemed a little angry. Why is she acting like this all of a sudden? After a brief moment of hesitation, Ronan spoke up.

"It's a good sword."

"...Is that all?"

"Yeah. With a name like that, it must be sturdy."

His tone was firm. Even after waiting for a while, no further description came out. Lynn's face began to stiffen gradually. At some point, she turned her head away, pouting.

"Dummy."

"Why are you pouting all of a sudden?"

"You're too much. It's still the sword that defeated the Black Dragon."

"Honestly, I'm not sure if that's true or not. If the First Emperor played a decisive role in defeating Orsay, more people should know about it. But it was the first time I heard it since I came here."

Ronan said. If it weren't for the elderly grandmother who couldn't cook, he would have lived his whole life without knowing this anecdote. Lynn replied in a pouting tone.

"...That couldn't be helped. The Holy Sword asked not to be recorded in history."

"Huh?"

"But Balon broke that promise. While he respected the Holy Sword's wishes and didn't make a big deal out of it, he did tell his close aides about it. Naturally, the secret wasn't kept, and the disappointed Holy Sword came here to Parzan. There wasn't anyone to wield it, but its sanctity remained intact. So, the pool of light gathering in Parzan became the tomb where the spirits of swords gather."

Words flowed like water through her small lips. It felt like an extraordinary secret that shouldn't be heard had brushed past his ears. Ronan looked at her with wide eyes.

"How do you know all this?"

"I just know. And maybe you're right."

"I'm right?"

"About it being just a sturdy sword. In fact, it wasn't the power of the Holy Sword that defeated Orsay."

Lynn said calmly. Ronan raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar words.

"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"The Holy Sword simply awakened the power Balon possessed. Among mortals living fleeting lives, there are occasionally those with potential that even overwhelm immortal beings. Balon was one of them."

"Potential?"

"Yeah. Orsay, who was considered one of the five strongest dragons in history, had to retreat injured in front of that power. Balon was the rightful person to establish the Empire."

Lynn introduced the story of Balon's fight against Orsay in a matter-of-fact manner. It was as if the First Emperor was just a friend of hers.

Of course, being the one who first created the Imperial Army, he was sometimes referred to with more derogatory terms among his fellow members at the Punishment Squad, but hearing it like this felt alienating. It was like seeing someone call their parents by their first names. Lynn nudged Ronan's shoulder with her head as she spoke.

"In the end, what matters most is not the sword but the one wielding it. And you know that well. Of course, I didn't make the decision based solely on that."

"Based on?"

Lynn didn't respond. She stood up, ceasing headbutting against Ronan. Ronan noticed that her hair was faintly glowing.

"What are you...?"

"Answer my question first. There's not much time left."

The setting sun cast its glow upon the two of them. There was no scent carried in the gentle breeze. The struggle of the sun, striving for life, felt even more intense today.

"Surely..."

Ronan's gaze at Lynn widened. She had been a peculiar girl since their first meeting. Suddenly, a hypothesis flashed through his mind like lightning. As Ronan tried to formulate his response, a booming voice came from the direction of the Holy Land.

"Darman! What do you think this place is? Get out!"

"Heeik! Ha, just take a look. If I can't deliver it this time, I don't think I can ever deliver..."

Both of them turned their heads simultaneously. In the distance, a familiar boy was walking towards the Holy Land, carefully stepping on the ground to avoid touching the sword, which looked quite comical. A long, slender box was strapped to his back.

——————

"Darman?"

Ronan furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar behavior. He couldn't understand why he was acting like this all of a sudden when he could have waited until later.

It had been clearly stated that only the elders, the Sword Saint, and the final qualifiers could enter this area. Contrary to that, the elderly woman who introduced herself as the owner of the Silver Sword was yelling at Darman. She asked him.

"What do you have to deliver?"

"This is a gift from my master for Lady Zaifa. As Madam Olga knows, I came to Parzan for this. Really, could you just spare a moment to take a look?"

Darman was almost crying. He pleaded tearfully, citing the days of struggle he had endured over the past fortnight to meet Zaifa. Seeing his weakened state, the elders glanced at each other in turn. It was then that Zaifa, who was dutifully drawing the swords from the ground, interjected.

"Bring it here."

"Th-The Sword Saint...!"

The elders' eyes widened in astonishment. Since Zaifa herself had spoken thus, there was no choice. Darman's face lit up brightly.

"Th-Thank you!"

Darman, who had rushed over eagerly, stood before Zaifa. The solemn tiger halted its selection of the sword spirits, wearing an expression of worldly annoyance. Her eyes seemed bloodshot from exhaustion.

"I-I'll show it to you right now. So, um... here!"

Darman fumbled to open the box as if he were on fire. A single white longsword came into view. The elders, who had been watching, all exclaimed in admiration.

"Th-That...?!"

"H-How is it? It's a really well-made sword."

Darman carefully withdrew the sword and offered it to Zaifa. The elders' gaze was fixed on the sword Darman had drawn. Though it had been over two months, it was still vivid. All seven of them knew that sword.

"Surely... it's like it's come out of the dream..."

"That's right. Without a doubt, that's the sword."

Two months ago, all the elders had the same dream. A single star fell to the Holy Land, and there was a dream of a sword glowing white stuck there. They believed it to be a sign of the Holy Sword's appearance, so they hastened the Festival of Swords. One of the short elders stuttered and spoke.

"Th-The Holy Sword?"

"...Does it look like that in your eyes too?"

Allogin nodded his head. The sword gripped in Darman's hand bore an astonishing resemblance to the Holy Sword seen in their dreams. In fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that it was identical. The graceful blade, the cruciform guard, and even the faint white shimmer flowing along the blade.

It was a moment of confusion for everyone. Zaifa, who had maintained silence throughout, spoke up.

"So. You're giving me that sword?"

"Yes, y-yes... It's a gift from my master. He has expressed his wish for you to receive it."

"Master, huh? I'm not sure who you're referring to."

Zaifa seemed to be the only one without any particular thoughts. She was only pondering who the sender of the gift might be, tapping the ground with her tail.

"You... might not know. But the person who made it has admired you for a long time. He put a lot of effort into making it, hoping you would use it."

"I see. It's indeed a well-made sword."

Zaifa nodded. Even with the sharp eyes of a beastman, there was nothing to fault about the superb sword. It was somewhat understandable why someone would go to such lengths to deliver it. Darman raised his head slightly, looking at Zaifa, and asked cautiously,

"S-So, will you accept it?"

"No. I refuse."

"What?"

Darman's face hardened. Zaifa's turned back was as firm as a veil. Dumbfounded, Darman exclaimed,

"La-lady Zaifa! Is it because the sword is too small? If that's the case, don't worry. It has a special function for such situations. If you look here..."

"I cannot accept a sword from someone I do not know. Just convey my gratitude."

Darman desperately tried to grab Zaifa, but the solemn tiger only moved further inside the Holy Land. Though he tried to chase after, the other elders stopped him with their gazes. Darman, wearing a crestfallen expression, lowered his head deeply.

"Ah..."

"It's unfortunate, Darman. You should return, let's talk after the ceremony is over. And as for that sword..."

Several elders were approaching to console him. In an instant, Darman's figure disappeared from sight. Ronan's eyes, watching the situation from above, widened as if they were about to pop out.

"Wait a minute, that bastard...!"

"Hmm?!"

Sensing the threat, Zaifa reflexively turned and swung her sword. Swish! The massive blade passed through the spot where Darman had been standing, but there was no one there anymore. Then, behind Zaifa, Darman revealed himself.

"You..."

Zaifa turned her head. Darman silently rotated the sword he held in his grasp. The once pristine blade now had crimson blood smeared on it. Ronan dashed out with force. Thud... Zaifa's sword split in half and fell to the ground.

"No."

Lyn murmured. Simultaneously, a fountain of blood erupted from Zaifa's chest. Splat! Whether it was due to her large size or being stabbed in a vital spot, an immense amount of blood gushed out. Two nearby elders rushed forward in shock.

"Oh my god!"

"Darman! What are you doing?!"

Their reactions were astonishingly fast, befitting their roles as elders. One of them was the old lady who introduced herself as the owner of the Silver Sword. In her hands was a massive two-handed axe that made Marya's Great Sword look insignificant.

Once again, Darman's form blurred and vanished. The three rushing individuals passed each other in a frenzy. There was no sound of clashing metal. As Darman landed on the ground, the heads of the two elders soared sky-high simultaneously. Splat! The blood spurting from their decapitated bodies once again stained the Holy Land.

"...!"

For a moment, the world fell into silence. Zaifa's staggering body slowly leaned over. Even the wind that had been blowing suddenly ceased, so only the muffled sound of elders' bodies and heads hitting the ground could be heard in the Holy Land.

"It's no use. If you reject someone else's sincerity so recklessly..."

Darman chuckled coldly. Zaifa knelt down on one knee and collapsed. Her ashen fur was gradually turning white. It was like watching ash being blown away. Darman rotated the sword again to shake off the blood and turned his head.

"Don't you think so too?"

An Aura, very familiar to Ronan, was spreading out from Darman. The brown eyes, like fallen leaves, were gradually turning red. Finally, he fixed his gaze on Ronan and spoke.

"Brother."