Translated by: Garcar
Proofread by: @ShadowKoto
1
???: [――In regards to the matter on this occasion, it seems as though the Vollachian Empire is not intending to consider this a major incident. You ought to be grateful to the generosity of Emissary Serena Dracroy.]
Indeed, told so by the Commander of the Knights who wore a stern expression, Heinkel Astrea caught his breath.
Heinkel: […So no blame, huh?]
???: [――――]
Heinkel: [Ahh, no, that’s…! I take… my hat off… to the envoy.]
A sharp glare was immediately directed to his sigh of relief, and he flustered to formulate an excuse. Even he knew that his excuse had been a lousy one, so all it did was add to his shame.
The Commander of the Knights―― Wilhelm van Astrea, spoke not a word. Only, with a glare so sharp it felt as if he had thrust the tip of his sword against the other party’s neck, he gazed at his trueborn son, Heinkel.
Just when had it begun? When was it, that Heinkel had started to fear Wilhelm’s gaze?
When was the last time he had not felt his father’s gaze to be a sword, and had reacted with anything other than fear; he could not recall. Unable to recall, even now he continued to experience fear akin to a small, defenseless animal.
Wilhelm: [――. That is all, dismissed. As for the responsibility for the appointments on this case, which had flown over my head, I shall question the Deputy Commander later… Either way, it was likely some plot by the Council of Wise Men.]
Heinkel: [That’s…]
Wilhelm: [Dismissed, Heinkel Astrea.]
With the repeated command, Heinkel guessed he did not desire any further dialogue, and barely managed to voice a “Yes” without his voice quavering before leaving the Commander’s office of the guard station behind.
When Heinkel, his face tensed, and his back drenched in cold sweat, disappeared from the room, the remaining Wilhelm massaged the brow of his stern face.
Wilhelm: [Bertol-dono… Honored Father, just how did you handle those impudent youngsters back in those days? What must I do, to be like you…]
Indeed, not as Commander of the Knights, but as a lone, troubled father, he breathed a long, long sigh.
2
On his way home from the guard station, Heinkel ended up greatly disheveled from the self-reflection meeting that had been held in his mind.
The way he fashioned his gaze and expression, the lousy way he had given the responses he prepared, the plain utterances of his innermost feelings, and finally, the demeanor that had likely invoked tremendous disappointment from Wilhelm; in a backwards sort of sense, he had gotten a perfect score.
Heinkel: [Even my self-deprecation is worthless, man.]
Placing a hand to his forehead, he took notice at the juncture his self-reflection meeting had converted into a self-disparagement meeting.
Shrinking before Wilhelm, failing to produce sufficient results as a Knight, and having an unfruitful reflection meeting, it was the same as always. Only, if there was just one thing that differed from usual――,
Heinkel: [Did Emissary Dracroy truly conceal the matter of Alagar…?]
This would then be the result of bearing a secret that had not even been reported to Wilhelm.
The escort mission that had served as the impetus for Wilhelm’s disappointment just now, the emissary sent from the Empire, Serena Dracroy, had spared no measure in order to escape the vile clutches of assassination. Even if that meant disobeying the Emperor’s imperial command, and setting the werewolf she had been ordered to return free.
Heinkel: [――. I never want to see them again.]
The future of the liberated werewolf―― Alagar, was not a bright one. No matter where he might flee, the fact that he was an outcast would likely only continue to torment his life. Those feelings, he understood.
The life of the young Sword Wolf, Serena Dracroy, had been targeted by her own parent, so just how could she yet hold her head high with such boldness, taking pride in going down a path that differed to others? Those feelings, he did not understand.
The only thing those two had in common for him, was that he absolutely never wanted to meet either of them again.
For if he were to come face to face with one of them again, Heinkel’s own sense of powerlessness would――,
???: [――Father!]
Heinkel’s head, which had only been drooping lower, lower, yet lower, was lifted by the sudden call of a voice, and in his blue eyes was reflected a small figure hurrying towards him.
Just like himself, they were a possessor of red hair akin to blazing flames, and eyes that perfectly captured the azure skies――,
Heinkel: [Reinhard.]
In Heinkel’s vision as he muttered, his young child quickly was quickly tottering towards him.
It appeared that, in his ruminations, he had arrived back home at the mansion. Treading upon the grass of the front garden, he got ready to catch Reinhard, whose face strongly resembled that of his beloved wife, and spread his arms wide open.
Reinhard: [Welcome home, Father. Are you finished with work?]
But, his preparations were rendered futile, as his child came to a halt just before his eyes.
Heinkel: [Yeah, I’m done. I also finished a meeting with father… with the Commander of the Knights.]
Reinhard: [So then, will you be in the mansion for the rest of the day?]
Heinkel: [I’ll be here, I’ll be here. How about we help with meal preparations together? ――You wouldn’t mind, right, Mother?]
Not knowing what to do with his hands, he brought Reinhard into a warm embrace, and while caressing his head, Heinkel spoke out to the woman who was slowly approaching from behind his son.
The beautiful red-haired woman smiled, closing a single eye, saying, “Isn’t that only natural?”,
Woman: [I have no recollection of raising my son to be a man who merely quietly sits around waiting for food to be served. The child I raised is the sort who pays attention to the finer things of everyday life.]
Heinkel: [Mother, I’m old enough already, how long are you still going to treat me like a child…]
Woman: [My, unfortunately that might be a bit difficult. After all, I’ve known you ever since you were born. No matter what I do, your tiny appearance will always overlap with the present.]
Placing her hand over her mouth, and speaking of such troubled matters was Heinkel’s mother, Theresia.
Soft and gentle though she might appear, she was truly quite stubborn, so ever since his birth, not once had Heinkel bested Theresia in an argument. Even now, that smile of hers was drowning out his fighting spirit.
However, held in Heinkel’s arms, Reinhard spun around and gazed at his grandmother,
Reinhard: [But, when it comes time for a meal, Honored Grandfather always just waits quietly at the dining table.]
Theresia: […Indeed. That’s how it is with that man. Truly, he’s a man who cannot do anything but swing the sword. That’s why, you mustn’t become like him, Reinhard. If you are to follow someone’s example, it should be Heinkel’s, understood?]
Reinhard: [Yes, Honored Grandmother. I will follow Father’s example.]
Heinkel: [Mother, please tone that down a notch. No matter how you put it, it only makes me uneasy.]
Listening to the heartwarming interaction between grandmother and grandchild, Heinkel sighed from the presumptuousness.
During the day, when Heinkel was away from home working at the Guard, Reinhard would spend a great deal of time with Theresia, or the married servant couple. During those periods, perhaps because Theresia and the other two were filling Reinhard’s ears with things, his internal opinion of Heinkel was ever on the rise.
That high appraisal, which did not match the truth of the reality much at all, only continued to force Heinkel to walk over a bed of needles.
Reinhard: [Father? Is something the matter?]
Perhaps perceiving his father’s anxiety, Reinhard, being hugged tightly, suddenly questioned him so; Heinkel denied his child’s worries with an “It’s nothing”, and picked up that small body.
Heinkel: [Nothing’s wrong! I just finished up a bit of a tough job, so I’m just feeling a little spent. But you see, your dad’s exhaustion is on the lighter side. It was tougher on my comrade who I was working together with.]
Reinhard: [Working together with… Marcos-san?]
Heinkel: [Huh? Have I mentioned him to you before? You did well remembering that. Good job, good job.]
His child had displayed unthinkable excellence, and so, patting him on the head, Heinkel nodded with a “That’s right”, before beginning to walk towards the mansion.
Heinkel: [That Marcos. This time… well, he really helped me out this time as well. That guy, is an incredible person.]
Reinhard: […Father, is too.]
Theresia: [Indeed, that is absolutely right! You’ve grown up to be so handsome, and you’re my pride and joy, my son.]
Being told such by his own child in his arms, and by his birth mother standing beside him, Heinkel blinked his eyes, and then upon his face emerged a smile, a real one, not one of pretense.
High appraisals that went above his own measure, were a poison that gnawed at Heinkel. However, the admiration of his young child, and the praise given by his mother, touching not upon sword skills, were a different story to his bitter self-evaluation.
――After all, his blazing red-hair, and blue eyes that encapsulated the sky, that which had been complimented by his lovely wife, who slumbered even now, were the very exoneration that allowed Heinkel to remain an Astrea.
3
Sat down on the hard floor, he steadied his heart, and quietly practiced his breathing.
In order to focus his mind on the inside of his body, deep within where he had never paid attention to before, the balance between stillness and movement was absolutely vital; such had been told to him by that odious Roswaal.
During the day, he had been engulfed in a vortex of magic that seemed to toy with him, manifesting as intense movement. Then, after sunset, he had entered a completely altered mental state of nothingness, indulging in unwavering stillness.
That was the reason why Marcos Gildark, who had become the Boulder not just in facial features, but down to his very flesh by means of a forbidden art, was spending this tranquil night at the Royal Magic Research Institute.
Marcos: [――Who’s there?]
Sitting with his legs crossed and eyes closed, Marcos’s meditation was interrupted, and he uttered that question.
To begin with, he had not even successfully managed to meditate. With an enigmatic power swirling around within his body, he seemed to have been ready for battle for no particular reason. ――That was why he had noticed. In a situation in which the staff who were supposed to monitor the entrance were dozing off, he had noticed the being who had appeared with nary a sound or indication.
Only, perceiving the one standing still amidst the darkness, he doubted if his own senses were tricking him.
Marcos: […A child?]
After all, present there was a child far too small.
Not metaphorically, he was of a height that rivalled Marcos’s knee level. A child of a noble house wearing clothes of high quality, with striking red hair and blue eyes―― and, upon ascertaining those distinguishable features, he easily figured out which house this person had come from.
And, as far as Marcos knew, the only one corresponding to that age would be――,
Marcos: [Reinhard, is it?]
Reinhard: [――――]
Marcos: [You’re the son of Heinkel Astrea, correct?]
Reinhard: [――Yes. I am Father’s son.]
The young child, remaining silent even when his name was asked, revealed his identity as soon as Heinkel’s name was brought up. At that proactive response, Marcos raised the eyebrows of his face, covered by rock as it was. He had indeed thought that Heinkel was one to dote on his child, but.
Marcos: [So the inverse is also true. The appa doesn’t fall far from the tree, it seems… How did you get in here?]
Reinhard: [I walked through the entrance.]
Marcos: [If it’s that easy to do such a thing, then I have gained both a reason to yell at Roswaal, and a reason to yell at Russell, who allowed the former to run wild…]
For the most part, this Royal Magic Research Institute was an important facility of the Kingdom, so it was decidedly not good for outsiders to be able to enter so easily. Of course, he did not think that they were so slacking in vigilance, and both Russell and Roswaal could be considered reliable in the sense of lacking oversights.
In other words, the unusual thing here, was the young child who had been walking around so late at night.
Marcos: [――――]
Looking at the young child who had appeared in the dim research lab from up to down, Marcos had trouble suppressing a silent, yet unshakable shock.
At five years old at most, not only was his body underdeveloped, it had barely even undergone development in the first place. Despite being such a child, Reinhard’s standing posture had been perfected.
The first thing that separated experts of martial arts from regular people, was their standing posture. To Marcos’s intuition, it appeared that Reinhard’s standing posture rivaled even that of the Sword Demon―― nay, that of the Sword Saint, Theresia van Astrea.
Marcos: [You, what of your sword?]
Reinhard: […Father said it’s still too early for me.]
Marcos: [I see. A decision so very much characteristic of that man. ――However you arrived here, it’s of no concern anymore. Why did you come here? Have you come to meet me?]
At the question, Reinhard slightly widened his blue eyes, and gave a small nod.
He had hit the nail on the head; however, Marcos plunged into rumination. Marcos could still understand if Heinkel had spoken of him to his son. But, being present here, and ascertaining Marcos with such an outward appearance, could not be explained away through simply having good intuition.
Reinhard: [Could you not hit my Father so harshly?]
Suddenly, as Marcos was pondering, his reaction to Reinhard’s words was delayed. Processing what he had said after a beat, he frowned his eyebrows behind the boulder.
Marcos: [What, did that guy run off crying to a child as small as you to complain about his cold colleague?]
Reinhard: [That’s incorrect…! But, I could always tell by looking at Father. Before as well, Marcos-san caused trouble for Father… you’re friends, aren’t you?]
Marcos: [Friends, huh…? Was there ever a time when that might have been true, I wonder?]
Indeed, as Marcos placed emotions that were hard to put to words upon his tongue, Reinhard silently watched him.
The child’s beautiful blue eyes, at the unfathomable light swirling deep within, when Marcos rejected his appeal, his instincts formed a guess of what Reinhard’s intentions were. And, the power to force most people to comply with his demands, certainly dwelled within this child.
This child, shouldering an extraordinary destiny―― born to a man unworthy of the lineage of Sword Saints, the child who was far too worthy of the lineage of Sword Saints, adored his father. Adored him a little too much.
Hence, though he was in a position that could not be stated definitively as his colleague or friend, Marcos proffered a warning.
Marcos: [Supposing that, every time something happens to Heinkel, you go like this to complain to another party directly, you should cease all such actions.]
Reinhard: […Is it because, I’m a child?]
Marcos: [No. ――Because it looks like Heinkel is making you do it.]
Reinhard: [――Hk, that’s not how…]
Marcos: [Even if you insist that it’s not the case, it won’t be taken any other way than what I stated. Your actions will produce the opposite of what you seek. You’ll only end up unnecessarily contributing to Heinkel’s adversity.]
At Marcos’s words, Reinhard clenched his small fists.
Sitting with his legs crossed in a form that appeared as a lump of stone, late at night, he was lecturing a young child who had snuck into one of the Kingdom’s most important facilities regarding his reckless actions. ――To an outsider’s eye, it would appear to be a nightmare; he was astonished by himself.
However, on top of that――,
Marcos: [I can’t make any promises, but I understand your view. I don’t believe that you are operating on Heinkel’s inclinations.]
Reinhard: [――. Will you be more gentle with Father?]
Marcos: [I told you, I can’t make any promises. More importantly, what about you? You’re going to become a Knight in the future, right? In that case, you have to tightly follow what your parent says. Even though that guy’s like that, he’s still the son of the Sword Demon and the Sword Saint. He’s well aware of what it means to be a Knight.]
Marcos did not know how much his words had resonated with Reinhard. Only, a change there had been. ――However, not on the child’s side, but on Marcos’s.
Gradually, the proliferation of stone slowed down, and finally came to a halt. Then, the boulder that had been covering his body shed away, revealing Marcos’s real limbs, torso, and head.
Ironically enough, it seemed like the conversation with this senseless child had played a part in bringing unity to his mind.
Marcos: [Yet still no response, huh? Tsk, you undisciplined pipsqueak.]
Giving no indication of whether he would heed the warning or not, the child had vanished from sight before he knew it.
Although Marcos had been distracted by the change in his body, it was an astonishing feat. It almost seemed as if his meeting with Reinhard here had just been some sort of hallucination.
Only, the fact that such had not been the case, was deeply engraved into Marcos’s heart, unforgettably so.
Marcos: [It’s true, you’d have to become a doting parent for a kid like that, Heinkel.]
In the sense of needing to keep a close eye on him, in the sense of him being a handful, the child had been born with innate qualities that required a good parent’s eyes; this Marcos had understood.
Of the many problems encircling Heinkel, Marcos had thought that one among them would be resolved if he eventually inherited the Divine Protection of the Sword Saint, with the resentment between the two of them possibly subsiding, but―― likely, the worst possibility that flashed through Marcos’s imagination, would be best left as a groundless fear.
Marcos: [For now, it’s fine. For now… Oi! I’ve suppressed the forbidden art! Call Roswaal at once!]
Shouting in a loud voice, he startled the staff who had been dozing off awake.
Sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of the hubbling research institute, Marcos rested his chin in his hands, and sighed.
These chest pains were merely a needless fear, so it would be best if any more troublesome things did not occur.
However, in the not-so-distant future, that unpleasant hunch that Marcos held would prove to hit the nail on the head.
And, that would far surpass anything Marcos imagined, dragging the Kingdom in cataclysmic circumstances that would bring about changes even exceeding that of housing the forbidden art of the Boulder in his body, both unto him, and unto everything.
And yet unbeknownst to this, the future of Marcos Gildark would carve unfading wrinkles into his boulder-like brow, merely a part of the greater influence to be exerted by the Sword Saint’s destiny.
《Fin》