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Chapter 52: The Sinister Sword (5)



There was also the camellia tree that Isha cried under as a child, and at the end of the path, a large rock stood.

Though it was a massive rock, it was hidden between the trees, making it difficult to spot.

Despite no markings to guide us, Isha found the rock with ease.

It seemed her memories of this place were so vivid that she navigated it like it was her home.

“Even after all these years, nothing here has changed.”

With a fond touch, she removed the vines clinging to the rock.

As the green stems fell away, the backside of the rock was revealed.

“There are a lot more plants now though. They’ve grown so much in the meantime.”

“Plants grow endlessly unless you take care of them. Ah, is this it?”

“Yes. It was our promise to write on the back. The rock is softer than it looks, so it’s easy to carve.”

Just as Isha said, there were several inscriptions on the back of the rock, as though carved with a blade.

The older carvings were near the bottom, while the newer ones were higher up.

Could they have been carved as Isha grew taller? It felt like glimpsing pieces of her past.

Isha’s writing was crooked, complaining about how hard her training was, while Russell comforted her.

Her handwriting was uneven, while Russell’s was written in stiff, formal letters.

When she wrote that she was lonely, he responded with, “Let’s meet tomorrow.”

And when she mentioned her friend’s birthday, he promised to prepare a gift.

Russell must have been a stern father, just like mine.

At the very top, the latest inscription caught all of our eyes.

It had been carved recently.

- I’m sorry. You must leave Requitas.

- I’ll take care of everything.

- Dig beneath the rock.

There had been a premonition.

It seemed that Russell had thought of Isha’s childhood memories first.

We followed Russell’s instructions and dug beneath the rock.

There, we found an old wooden box buried underneath. It didn’t seem like it had been placed there recently.

It had been buried for at least five years, if not more.

“It seems this was planned long ago.”

“Dad… was always a prepared man. He must have anticipated something like this.”

“Do you want to open it? If you’re not ready, we can do it later, or you can open it when you’re alone. No pressure.”

“No, it’s fine. I can open it now with you.”

With Isha’s permission, the box was opened.

Inside, there was a thick leather pouch, a map, a letter, and a worn necklace.

The leather pouch was filled with the finest gold coins.

It was enough money to settle anywhere, to live comfortably without working for the rest of her life.

If she was frugal, it would last a lifetime.

The map depicted the area surrounding Requitas, with a spot marked in red.

It was far enough away that checking it out immediately wasn’t possible.

I wondered if it was the location where some important information was stored, but I had no desire to claim it.

If she survived, she would one day rise to the rank of Swordmaster.

And she was someone who would never betray until the very end.

If we left on good terms, it would one day benefit us both.

“This necklace was my mother’s. I remember seeing it when I was younger, but I haven’t seen it since then. I guess he placed it here.”

“You must’ve been close.”

“More than with Dad. I cried a lot when she passed away. I was so angry at Dad because he didn’t cry, just drank. Looking back, I was too harsh.”

It seemed that fathers everywhere were the same.

They despised showing any weakness in front of their children.

My father had been the same. My mother passed when I was young, yet he never once spoke of her.

I’d heard he had loved her dearly.

That old man had been just as obsessive about teaching me the sword.

Looking back, it seemed like he believed the only thing he had to give me was the sword.

Since the sword was his entire world, he wanted to give me everything he had.

Russell’s letter contained only a short message.

Considering it had been placed in the box so long ago, there wasn’t much else to say.

- I hoped you’d never have to receive this box.

- But if you’ve found it, leave far away.

- Don’t look back.

- Even if you hate me, know that I love you. – Dad

Isha bit her lip slightly.

Her curled-up body seemed like it was either holding back anger or suppressing sadness.

Only Isha knew which.

“What will you do?”

Sirien asked.

“He says you should leave Requitas. Are you going to do that?”

“Can I even leave if I want to?”

“If we help you, yes. It’s not like they’re maintaining the city walls properly. If we search, we can probably find a gap or two.”

The walls of Requitas were, in reality, practically useless.

Though they may have been sealed up to prevent the Sewer rats from finding Isha, Sirien and I could easily help her escape.

Even if anyone got in our way, I was confident we could eliminate them quietly.

Helping Isha escape would be the last favor we could offer her.

It wasn’t that I had any affection left, but I just didn’t want to see her captured by the Sewer rats.

That’s all there was to it.

If I’m being honest, Isha wasn’t really necessary to us anymore.

Given the message left behind, it was clear that Russell didn’t plan to have any further contact with Isha.

The meaning of “I’ll clean up everything” was all too obvious.

There were only two ways for the Crescent Moon to be “cleaned up.”

Either the Sewer rats all die, or Russell does.

There was no need to guess which was more realistic.

“I…”

* * *

For now, we decided to return to the inn.

Since the situation had changed, we started considering the option of tracking down Russell ourselves.

But first, we had some business to take care of.

Behind a small tree at the edge of the hill, where the moonlight barely reached, a faint shadow loomed.

From the outside, the forest looked calm, with not even the wind blowing through, but I glanced over, sensing something different.

From deep within, I could hear faint breathing.

It had been following us since we left the inn.

At first, I thought I would kill it after it reported back, but since it continued trailing us, I had ignored it.

Now, as we were returning to the city, it seemed like a good time to get rid of it.

“Sirien. Should we clean this up now?”

“Let’s. Killing it here means we won’t even need to deal with the body.”

With her approval, I made a simple hand sign.

The holy arts and abilities I possessed were far simpler compared to Sirien’s.

Maybe it was because my role as the protector was less complex than hers?

She had to lead, while I only needed to protect her.

Unlike Edwin, I couldn’t teleport anywhere at will. That was a power only granted within the sanctuary.

So, the abilities I received were mostly combat-related.

For example, the most basic of them allowed me to temporarily create a weapon.

A small amount of divine energy flowed out from my body.

The divine energy gathered and solidified into a dark-colored spear in my hand.

I wasted no time, throwing it without hesitation.

The spear flew through the night and pierced straight through a tree.

Thwack!

A muffled scream was swallowed by the impact.

There were two followers. The other figure, moving swiftly on the opposite side, opted to flee.

Sirien took care of the other one. After years of working together, we didn’t need to exchange a single word to coordinate.

Her massive axe embedded itself perfectly in the back of the fleeing target’s head.

It was always impressive to see her accuracy.

“How do you throw it so well?”

“I just throw it.”

“Tch. Geniuses.”

Sirien’s natural talent, discovered in the wilderness, was being put to excellent use.

After she had more leisure time, she experimented with a variety of weapons—daggers, spears, throwing knives—but she always favored the axe.

Apparently, it suited her best. Since she said so, who was I to argue?

The axe Sirien used now came from a blacksmith in the Barony of Isquente, where the border conflict first began.

It had absorbed so much divine energy over time that it was practically a holy relic by now.

The axe pulled itself free from the corpse and flew right back into Sirien’s hand with a thud.

The blood that had stained it was absorbed into the axe.

I flinched at the sight.

“What the… Why is it drinking the blood?”

When we bought it, it had been just an ordinary axe.

It was made of steel and wood, with no strange enchantments or magical properties.

The only thing that had changed since then was the immense amount of divine energy it had absorbed.

Watching the axe drink blood, though, was something I could not comprehend.

“This way, it even repairs any nicks or dullness in the blade. Pretty convenient, right?”

“Well, yeah, but… It’s still kind of unsettling.”

“Why? I think it’s cute.”

Of course, it didn’t look cute. It looked like a regular axe—a short-handled hatchet with a large, heavy blade.

I was starting to worry about Sirien’s taste.

Maybe she had spent too much time on the battlefield.

Perhaps I should try steering her toward a more girlish preference?

I should start gifting her things like flowers or dolls from time to time.

We checked the bodies of the spies but, as expected, found nothing of interest.

They had been following us since shortly after we met Millen.

Still, I had a pretty good idea of how things were going to play out on their end.

We encountered two, and we killed two.

Since no one made it back, they wouldn’t know if we had Isha with us or not.

Even if they did find out, it didn’t matter.

Whether or not Millen brought more of Kirux’s men, we would just track them down ourselves.

I just wanted to make my job a little easier.

It was about time we cleaned up this city and moved on.

With that thought, Sirien and I returned to the inn, just the two of us.

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