Chapter 175: The Festival of Swords (18)
The last day of the competition dawned. Participants, after sufficient rest, began their ascent up the mountain in the afternoon. Allogin explained that the final checkpoint and Holy Land were not too far apart, and it would take about an hour to reach them.
There were twenty individuals who remained until the end, including Ronan and his group. Perhaps because they had overcome various hardships to reach this point, their gaze seemed different. Ronan, looking around at them, let out a whistle.
“It seems like those who were meant to be eliminated have been eliminated. Some of them appear stronger than us.”
“They’re talents gathered from across the continent.”
Shullifen nodded in agreement. Even without engaging in combat, it was evident. Surely, each of them had been recognized as skilled warriors in their own right. Suddenly, Ronan recalled the events of last night and nudged his side with his elbow.
“Right. Are you feeling alright in the head?”
“What’s with the sudden question?”
“You’re quite the character. BabblIng all that nonsense last night and now acting all innocent?”
Ronan chuckled as if he was amused. Shullifen, intoxicated with just one drink, continued to praise Iril even after falling asleep. Constantly rambling without a moment’s rest, he was undoubtedly a lunatic. Although it helped alleviate some of Ronan’s unease stemming from Russell and Riley’s deaths.
“Do you even remember what you said? Anyway, I guess that’s why you’re still alive this morning without a noose around your neck.”
“I remember everything. And I feel no shame in laying out the facts.”
“You crazy bastard.”
“Unfortunately, it seems I can only be honest with the help of alcohol. I lack courage.”
Ronan shook his head. The conviction in his voice made him realize that perhaps the real danger wasn’t the Ferocious Sword, but this guy himself. They continued their ascent, exchanging various conversations. Meanwhile, Lynn walked hand in hand with Navirose, following about thirty steps behind them. With a troubled expression, she muttered to herself.
“Um. I’m not sure.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Which butt do you think is better? Your their teacher, so you should know.”
“…Hmm?”
Navirose was certain she must have misheard due to the sound of the wind. What did being their teacher have anything to do with knowing their butts? Yet, no matter how many times she asked again, the response remained the same.
“The one with the fiercer face is more to my taste, but as for the backside, it’s quite lumpy. If the charm lies in being as solid as a rock on that side, then for the teacher’s side…”
Suddenly, Lynn began to critique the two disciples’ buttocks. Her expression was so serious that even a cattle farmer choosing a cow for slaughter wouldn’t match her level of intensity. Although it was nonsense in terms of nutritional value, listening to it somehow sparked an unexpected interest, which made Navirose, who had struggled to restrain her curiosity, turn her head sideways.
“I… don’t know about that kind of thing.”
“We need to decide by today, it’s a big deal. Should I just choose for you?”
Lynn said so, lifting her head. She started to let out a sigh again as she stared fixedly at Navirose’s chest. It was evident that she was deeply troubled by something, but what it was remained unclear. Of course, there was no particular desire to know, either.
“You know, Navirose.”
“What is it?”
“I, can I really go to your academy?”
Navirose raised an eyebrow. Come to think of it, she remembered her bragging a few days ago about being recommended to enroll in the academy by Ronan. She gently stroked Lynn’s head.
“Of course. Philleon is always open to talented individuals.”
“Thank you. Then, I really should go.”
“But you should refrain from harassing Ronan there too much.”
Navirose quipped. Come to think of it, it had been quite a while since Navirose had seen her face. A girl who used to be bullied, rising to the position of the Student Council President, she must be doing well. Lynn grinned.
“Why’s that?”
“Someone has strong feelings for him. But her fault is that she is very timid.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, then it’s fine. I’ll be prettier anyway.”
Lynn swept her abundant white hair behind her ears. Navirose chuckled softly. It was a confident gesture that didn’t quite match her petite appearance. In some ways, it was enviable. At that moment, Allogin, leading the procession from the front, came to a halt in his tracks. He turned to the people and spoke.
“You all have worked hard. This is the summit of Parzan.”
Ronan and Shullifen, following closely behind, also stopped in their tracks. There seemed to be no further to ascend. Before them lay a landscape they had never seen before. Ronan, surveying the surroundings, muttered as if entranced by something.
“…A crater?”
The sunken terrain, as if it had been scooped out with a spoon, hinted at the fact that Parzan had once spewed fire from this place. The crater, which appeared to be about 3 km in diameter, was entirely covered with ice.
The sun, tilting, cast its rays onto the perpetual snow, creating an illusion as if the sanctuary itself was glowing. Allogin nodded with a gentle smile.
“Yes. It’s a crater where light gathers. Somewhere around here lies the Holy Sword.”
“A crater where light gathers…”
Ronan nodded. It was a fitting nickname indeed. On the outskirts of the crater stood a building presumed to be where the elders resided. It had a rather grandiose feel, and it felt as if it had been picked from one of Philleon’s main buildings. Allogin guided the group there. It was both to unload their belongings and to take a short rest.
The building wasn’t as spacious as expected. In many ways, it was a structure reminiscent of a temple, with a high ceiling and several huge pillars.
Since most of the elders were quite old, one might have expected there to be plenty of staff helping them, but they seemed to be quite self-sufficient among themselves.
The participants were given time to rest and wash up. As they wandered around inside, the elders approached them with greetings.
“Welcome. You who have passed even the final trial. We have been waiting for you.”
“Oh, hello. Thank you.”
Ronan bowed his head in greeting. Apart from being old, there was an aura emanating from the elder that was out of the ordinary. Perhaps due to a sacred ceremony, all the elders were dressed in the same attire. At that moment, a large old woman stopped in front of Ronan.
“Aha, you’re the 44th participant. Your name is quite renowned even among us elders.”
“In a good way?”
“Ahaha. I quite like you. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
The old woman evaded the question with a hearty laugh. With her robust physique and hearty laughter, she resembled a warrior from the north. Introducing herself as the owner of the Silver Sword, she patted Ronan’s shoulder and said,
“I hope one of you find the Holy Sword. Indeed, it’s time for it to appear.”
“You speak as if someone had found it before. Wasn’t it simply a legend?”
“The Holy Sword indeed exists. While the world may dismiss it as a legend or fairy tale, us elders know it to be a definite part of history. And the first owner of the Holy Sword is someone you know very well.”
“Someone I know?”
Ronan tilted his head at the incomprehensible words. The old woman, with a meaningful smile, spoke up.
“Have you ever wondered how a mere human defeated the Dragon King Orsay?”
“Orsay… Could it be the First Emperor of the Empire?”
Ronan’s eyes widened. It was a story he had never heard before. To think that the reason the First Emperor could defeat the Black Dragon Orsay was because of the Holy Sword. The old woman who was reciting the beginning of the story interrupted.
“Hehe. I’ll tell you more once the ceremony is over. Anyway, aren’t you hungry? You should eat something.”
“I’m fine. I already ate.”
“No, no. You can’t properly wield a sword if you’re this thin. Kids these days… are they intentionally trying to lose weight?”
The old woman clicked her tongue. Thin. It was the first time Ronan had heard such a remark from anyone, excluding Iril. Of course, he wasn’t really thin, it was just her personal standard. The thickness of the old woman’s arms, who looked to be in her seventies, was not much different from Ronan’s. She shouted.
“Hey! Darman!”
“Huh?”
At the familiar name, Ronan raised an eyebrow. Soon, a boy came running from the other side of the building. His speed was such that traces of his movement were visible. He stopped in front of the old woman.
“Madame Olga, did you call for me?”
“Yes. Please guide this child to the dining hall. And any other hungry participants as well.”
“Of course. If you need anything, let me know, as I might be descending down the mountain tomorrow.”
“Alright. You’re so kind. I need to prepare for the ceremony now, so I’ll take my leave.”
After patting the boy’s head once, the old woman turned away. Ronan was staring at the familiar boy. Frail appearance. Gray hair and brown eyes. He was indeed the guy Ronan knew. He was the sword delivery boy who carried Zaifa’s sword.
“…Darman?”
“Huh?! Ronan?”
Darman’s eyes widened as he belatedly noticed Ronan’s presence. It was a reaction not much different from when they first met in the forest.
“Why are you here? And what about the sword meant for Zaifa?”
“Ahaha… Well, that’s a bit of a complicated story.”
Darman scratched his head awkwardly. The strange story began. He managed to arrive in Parzan somehow, but even after wandering around for days, he couldn’t find Zaifa. As a result, he ran out of food and money, so he took on odd jobs shuttling between checkpoints and the Holy Land.
Originally, he had planned to only work until he found Zaifa, but he couldn’t find her until the end of the competition. Surprisingly, he found that the job suited him, and people liked him for his straightforward approach, so he ended up working longer than expected. After finishing his story, Darman looked quite proud of himself.
“I’m pretty fast, you know. Everyone likes it because goods they order arrive quickly.”
“Yeah. You’re damn fast. Things got a bit twisted, but I’m glad it worked out somehow.”
“Hehe, thanks to you for saving me that day. Is Zaifa not coming today either?”
“Oh, she’ll be here soon. She said she’d participate in the ceremony.”
Ronan explained that the tiger had her own accommodation because she found meeting people bothersome. Darman’s face froze in shock.
“Oh, that’s why I couldn’t see her. No wonder…”
“Yeah. You can give it to her today.”
“Ugh… I guess I should do that. Shall we go to the dining hall for now?”
“Sure. It’s also a commemoration.”
Ronan followed Darman to the dining hall. The food, which had just been cooked by the old woman herself, boasted an equally atrocious taste one after another.
“Damn. Why the hell is there a fish head stuck in the pie? Is that old hag suffering from dementia?”
“Haha… Madame Olga’s cooking is a bit unique.”
After cursing under his breath, Ronan’s mood settled after eating the egg dish Darman made improvisationally. He recounted the story that had unfolded on the way here to Darman during the meal.
“Th-the Ferocious Sword, Croden? He came here?!”
“Yeah. Zaifa split him in half in one strike.”
“I can’t believe it…”
Darman listened to Ronan’s story with various expressions, mostly intense and colorful, making it quite enjoyable to tell. After about an hour, it was announced that the ceremony was about to begin, so they should prepare to leave. Darman waved his hand as he escorted Ronan out.
“I hope you find the Holy Sword.”
“Yeah. I’ll tell Zaifa to stop by here, so be ready too.”
Ronan also waved his hand lightly. Everyone except Darman left the building. In the empty building, a cheerful humming echoed.
****
The ceremony took place in the center of the Holy Land. The inside of the crater was considered sacred ground, and except for the elders, the guardians, and the participants who had passed the final test, it was impossible for anyone else to step foot inside.
People gathered around the center of the sacred ground where starlight pooled. Seven elders surrounded them in a circle, each focusing their minds with their weapons drawn, amidst swirling mana that made one’s head spin. Zaifa, who had returned after finishing her business, stood with her arms folded.
The crimson hue of the setting sun was slowly appearing in the sky, which was so close that it felt like he could touch it if he extended his arms. Ronan muttered in a slightly loud voice, more to himself than anyone else,
“What exactly is this ceremony?”
“Even if you ask that, I can’t tell you.”
Navirose spoke, looking straight ahead. She was still wearing Ronan’s coat. She had been wearing it for quite some time, so it was probably smelly, but it was surprising that she was wearing it so well. Ronan spoke.
“Come on, don’t be so secretive, just tell me.”
“I can’t. It would diminish the impact.”
“To the point of being moved?”
“Those experiencing it for the first time will certainly feel that way. It’s a sight they’ve probably never seen before.”
Navirose’s voice was firm. The way she spoke made it clear that there was definitely something there. A cold breeze, as if directly from the sky, blew strongly. Suddenly, Alorgin raised his sword.
“We shall commence the ceremony.”
A blue glow shimmered along the blade of his longsword. The other elders also raised their weapons. Without waiting for the participants to react, they each planted their weapons into the ground. Paaah~! A fierce burst of light spread out like a whirlwind enveloping the sacred ground.
“What the hell, what’s happening all of a sudden?!”
Ronan instinctively closed his eyes. It was an unavoidable brightness. Other participants showed almost identical reactions. Even through their covered faces, the intense light pierced through their hands. In the midst of the radiance, Lynn’s voice was heard.
“This… is… the final… test.”
But the wind was too strong to discern exactly what she was saying. After about three minutes, the light finally subsided. Ronan, confirming that the surrounding mana had returned to normal, raised his head.
“This…”
And then he lost his words. Navirose’s words were as unprecedented as the scene he had just witnessed. The crater, once filled only with white snow, had transformed into a garden full of blooming flowers.
However, those flowers were not ordinary plants familiar to people. Various types of weapons protruded from the ground with their heads buried, standing upside down. The appearance of the weapons, reflecting a brilliance under the sun’s rays, resembled flowers made of steel.
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