Chapter 225 - Four Swords (6)

Callios opened his eyes first and stood up.

Then he paced around with his hands behind his back.

As he did so, he picked up a fist-sized stone from among the weeds and tossed it up and down in his hand.

He continued explaining to Damian, who was still meditating with his eyes closed, "People like us express reaching the level of seeing others as opening the third eye. What's important for you is to open your eyes. You don't need to see any deeper or further than that."

Damian couldn't resist asking a question.

"What do I see in others?"

"You'll first sense the most intense emotion that a human, no, a living being can emit."

"What is that?"

Callios threw the stone he was holding at Damian.

It grazed Damian's ear slightly and shattered against a rock. Only after hearing the shattering sound did Damian belatedly open his eyes and look back.

"Killing intent."

"...If it had been happiness or familial love or something like that, the world might have been a bit more beautiful."

"I agree. Humans have always had to kill and prey on other living beings to survive. It's been that way since the beginning of this world. You don't die from not feeling familial love, but you invariably die if you can't sense killing intent. Emitting and detecting killing intent is the most primal and fundamental sense."

"..."

"Unfortunately, all living beings in the world are entangled in the cycle of having to kill and prey on other living beings."

"There should be at least one that lives well on its own. For example, plants living harmoniously."

"Do you think plants are any different? You don't seem to see their struggle. Do you think plants secrete deadly poisons for the sake of alchemists? They created those to kill those who gnaw on them. Even now, beneath the ground, a slaughter is taking place to expand territory and absorb nutrients and magic from the earth, drying out and killing other seeds. If plants had mouths, this world would be filled with screams."

"...I thought meditation was something pacifists liked. I guess it doesn't matter."

"Nature always exterminates pacifists first. Always."

"Somehow, the more I hear, the deeper my troubles seem to get."

"It will continue to distract your concentration in the future. Focus again."

"..."

Damian closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

Callios picked up another stone and threw it at Damian with killing intent.

Then, a strange plant stem extended from beneath Damian and swatted away the stone.

"...?"

Damian's sapling sword, which had been thrown far away, had somehow crept back and sensed the killing intent, protecting him.

This wasn't what Callios had intended.

"Hmm."

Callios looked at the sapling and fell into thought for a moment.

Damian felt the stem wrapping around him and opened his eyes. He was surprised to see the returned wooden sword.

"This is..."

"Focus again."

Callios approached and picked up the sapling. He placed it about ten paces away from Damian. Then he drew his own magic sword, Renatic, from his waist and gently placed it on top of the wooden sword.

Callios closely observed the sapling's reaction.

The sapling retracted its stem as if burned when it tried to absorb the magic sword's energy. Then the stem struggled to move, propping itself up on the ground. The wooden sword was suffering, crushed by an unbearable force.

Soon after, it quickly began to take root in the earth to survive.

This was quite an interesting sight for Callios.

"Did you perhaps sleep while hugging the wooden sword too?"

Its vitality and activity had clearly increased compared to when he had seen it before.

"...How did you know?"

"Keep doing it in the future."

It was a strange thing. Callios prided himself on having experienced most of the swords that exist in the world, but Damian's sword was something even he hadn't experienced.

The fact that it was blindly loyal, beyond simply being possessed, also felt strange to Callios.

This was because magic swords typically had the habit of opportunistically changing masters in search of a strong host.

It was also rare for it to maintain such loyalty even in the presence of Callios, a complete host.

Callios muttered softly, "This is getting more and more interesting..."

***

Delphion cleared his throat and adjusted his posture in front of the door. Then, after checking the sorted documents once more, he knocked on the door.

Knock knock.

"Come in."

Delphion entered and gave Callios an imperial salute.

Callios looked the same whether in the Empire or in Rigved.

He was always reading books written in ancient script while having herbal tea. As he always had. For ten years since he started assisting, he hadn't abandoned this habit.

"Here are documents that arrived from the Empire. There are slightly over fifty requests for guidance matches and audiences."

"Ah, I see."

Callios responded adequately, considering Delphion's efforts, but showed no interest. Although Callios had excellent cognitive abilities, if he wasn't interested, he wouldn't even remember something even if it was repeated ten times.

"The Royal Academy has requested your return to the imperial family."

"Ah, I see."

"There's a buzz about this year's first-years being the Children of Dalixia."

The Children of Dalixia was an expression used when talent was concentrated in one year, forming a golden generation.

"..."

"Shouldn't you take a look?"

Callios never missed out on these things. He would gather those who ranked first or those who showed extraordinary talent despite low grades, and among those selected, Callios would teach them directly.

Knights raised in this way were active all over the country today.

Callios wet his fingers with saliva and turned the page of his book. It was a signal that he wasn't interested.

"Sir Callios?"

"Ah, um, what is it?"

"Don't you need to find a successor?"

"I've already raised all my successors. Aren't my disciples active all over the country? I think I'm done with raising people and might start real farming. We could sell wine with your name and mine attached. We'll become rich in no time."

"Aren't you already a wealthy man, Sir Callios?"

"Do you know that wine-making families are more welcome at parties than swordsmanship families? The only ones welcoming us are noblewomen with sons."

Delphion raised his voice, feeling frustrated, "Are you going to let Renatic become a disaster?"

Renatic, known as one of the four great magic swords, was, metaphorically speaking, a demon bound by chains. If Callios' restraint were to be released, Renatic would once again bring hell to the world.

This was precisely why Callios had been so obsessed with succession.

While he had ambitions to be recorded in history as an educator and leader, he also aimed to nurture someone who could control Renatic.

Callios leisurely sipped his tea.

"Hmm, that won't do. Would you like to take it?"

He was speaking lightly about a major issue that could threaten tens of thousands of lives and overturn the power structure of the Empire, as if passing on a household chore.

Delphion sighed.

"I don't want to die with my heart exploding."

Delphion was also one who had received Callios' teachings. He once dreamed of becoming a Sword Master and was expected and favored by professors.

But he gave up the sword after facing the limits of his talent. He didn't regret it because he had seen up close the demonic talents that came under Callios.

The reason he had been able to stay by Callios' side until now was because he was tight-lipped, loyal, and had more talent in clerical work than swordsmanship.

There was once a student who coveted Renatic. That student ignored warnings and secretly grasped Renatic, only to die with his heart exploding. The cause of death was rejection. The heart was the least of it.

The level of swordsmanship that Delphion had barely reached at thirty, that student had achieved at fifteen, but he lost his life so futilely.

"Ah, yes, that's right," Callios answered indifferently again and flipped through the book. 

Delphion sighed and changed the subject, "...I hear Miss Sirinkis is coming to visit Rigved. She's stopping by for a tour ahead of the exchange competition."

"Hmm, is that so?"

He was even indifferent to the news of his own granddaughter visiting.

"Did you know that Miss Sirinkis has enrolled in the Imperial Academy?"

"Is that so? Well, I should respect my granddaughter's choice."

"Don't you have any intention of guiding your granddaughter?"

"That child has ambition but a small capacity. Since childhood, she's been more interested in my wealth than in me."

As always, Callios was merciless in his evaluation, even towards his own flesh and blood.

It wasn't like this from the beginning. Having his sword inherited by his own blood would have been the most ideal picture for both the Empire and Callios, and he once made constant efforts, but in the end, things didn't go as planned and he gave up.

Callios' two daughters had neither interest nor talent in swords, and among his four granddaughters, only one showed interest in swordsmanship. But even she didn't inherit the talent of the previous generation.

"Are you really okay with not meeting her?"

"It's fine."

Delphion knew. When he lost interest in surrounding matters, it meant he was deeply immersed in something.

"Is Eternia's holy maiden... living up to expectations?"

"Living up to..."

Callios closed his book. Then he stared blankly at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

"...Sir Callios?"

"...That fellow will cause many to retire."

***

Despite continuing training for several days, there was no noticeable growth. It was questionable whether I had become more emotionally mature, and things like killing intent didn't really resonate with me.

Priscilla still wouldn't communicate with me. I wonder if it was related to my poor spirit sensitivity.

Callios advised that meditation training wasn't something one did until they became proficient and then stopped.

He said it was like one more thing added to what one did for life, like eating, washing, and combing your hair.

As time passed, the day of my appointment with Cecil was just two days away.

As it seemed to be a fairly formal occasion, I needed proper attire, and to get my tailcoat, I ended up staying at Silveryn's mansion for the first time in a while.

"Master Damian..."

Maid Liria, whom I met again in my room after a long time, trailed off, implicitly expressing her disappointment.

Liria must have been very lonely, losing one of the few peers she knew and could communicate with.

"I'm sorry I couldn't visit often, Liria."

"It's enough if Master Damian is enjoying himself at the academy..."

"..."

"While Master Damian was away, I made a lot of extra potions. And many letters have piled up. Not as many letters as before, but..."

I felt even more sorry for not visiting all this time.

"Thank you. It's okay to burn all the letters. Important ones come directly to my hands anyway."

Liria brought a basket and placed it gently on my desk.

"Um... I tried to burn them as you said, but strange smoke kept coming out, so I had no choice but to keep them."

"...Strange smoke?"

"Black smoke kept circling above the firewood and extinguished the fire. So I tried to burn them directly, but the letters wouldn't catch fire. They did get a bit... scorched though."

"..."

From what Liria said, these didn't seem to be ordinary letters. Perhaps they were enchanted with magic.

I checked inside the basket. There were several black envelopes inside. They weren't scorched but were black from the beginning, and judging by their uniform size, they seemed to be all from the same person.

"When did these start coming?"

"They've been coming steadily since Master Damian's entrance ceremony."

Touching them lightly, I could feel the texture of the characters written in black ink. Runes, perhaps?

I wonder who sent them. If it was related to magic, it would be Silveryn or Duchess Bibi. But those two had Stitches directly connected to me, so they had no reason to send letters like this.

Thinking it might be important, I first sent Liria away.

"Thank you. Can I change my clothes for a moment?"

"Ah, yes...!"

Liria hurriedly left the room, and I took off the clothes I was wearing and changed into the tailcoat.

"...Hmm."

I moved my body this way and that, looking in the mirror. There wasn't a place where it didn't fit tightly.

My shoulders felt constricted and uncomfortable, and my wrists felt bare as if the sleeves had been rolled up. The trouser hems that used to fall perfectly on my feet now revealed my ankles clearly.

It was custom-made with Silveryn, but how long has it been for it to be like this? My body was growing rapidly, not giving me time to wait.

Fortunately, thanks to the extra length reinforced in the lining, it could be fixed with alterations.

I quickly took off the stuffy jacket and threw it aside. Then I grabbed the letter basket Liria had left and threw myself on the bed.

I reached into the basket and picked up a random letter.

Suddenly, I felt strange. 

Why put so much effort into someone who doesn't even have the decency to reply once?

The sender's name was written in black ink on the black envelope. I didn't know what the intention behind this was. I tried reading with my eyes but gave up and ended up tracing the dried ink with my fingertips to check.

There was an unfamiliar name written there.

"Ama… ryllis."

It was a name that had never been entangled with my life. I couldn't even guess how or where they came to know me.

Something dark red, not ink, was smeared on my fingertips. When I brought it to my nose, it had a fishy and unpleasant smell. This wasn't accidentally spilled wine. This was the smell of blood.