Kays Translations

Chapter 17 – Remembering His Ice and Imagining a New Self

When Ren stepped into the cluttered workshop that day, he found a round wooden table standing in the middle of the room.

An object that appeared to be Werlich’s latest creation rested upon it.

“Werlich, is that the finished item you mentioned?”

“I thought about it for quite a while, but this time I settled on boots! Your feet should not grow that much larger, and a little fine-tuning later will not be a problem!”

Ulysses had prepared the thread and the other materials required for the work. From the moment they arrived at Werlich’s workshop, the dwarf had devoted nearly every waking hour to the project.

The boots made generous use of processed material from Asval’s horn. It was not obvious at a glance, but solid sections reinforced the heels, toes, and insteps.

Werlich had not forgotten Ren’s insistence on freedom of movement either. He puffed out his chest proudly while explaining the construction, and Ren slipped one boot onto each foot.

“Nothing pinches, and they are extremely light.”

“Right? Have you revised your opinion of my skill?”

“Far from revising it, I have never doubted your skill in the first place.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then use them however you like. They should not stand out much even beneath your academy uniform.”

“If the cuffs of your trousers get in the way, you can adjust how you wear them.”

“I also designed the boots so they can be altered easily later. You do not need to worry about outgrowing them.”

“Thank you very much.”

Ren could do nothing about the fact that his body was still growing, so worrying would not change the result. He laughed, and when Werlich asked whether he wanted to wear the boots home, Ren answered yes.

He placed his old shoes in the burlap sack Werlich gave him.

“Unlike the Flame King’s Gauntlet, these do not have a name. That piece was special in several ways. Now then… are we finished?”

Werlich swayed where he stood.

“I have not worked myself sleepless like this in a long time. I am absurdly tired.”

Ren bowed deeply.

“Thank you very much for making such wonderful armor for me.”

He expressed his gratitude once more.

Werlich promptly fell backward and began breathing with the slow rhythm of sleep.

He had collapsed not onto his bed, but onto the soot-stained floorboards.

“He must have been completely exhausted.”

“Apparently so.”

Ren lifted Werlich and carried him to the bed.

He took the workshop key from the round table, locked the door after he and Ulysses stepped outside, and then froze.

“I locked the door without thinking. What should I do with the key?”

“There should be a windowpane around the side with a chipped corner. Toss it through the gap. Of course, a broken window rather undermines the purpose of the lock.”

Ren had no answer to Ulysses’s observation.

“Still, do you not need armor for your chest or another larger part of your body?”

“That will come later. My body is still growing, so I will wait until my build no longer requires constant adjustment before making the larger pieces.”

The same concern technically applied to the boots, but Werlich had deliberately left portions that could be adjusted as Ren grew.

The remaining materials could eventually be used for other equipment.

(I wonder whether these will make the Flame Magic Sword easier to use.)

The thought reminded Ren of the period immediately after he received the Flame King’s Gauntlet.

He intended to test the new boots during the holiday, and he began considering how to spend the following day.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

As he had decided the previous evening, Ren tested the boots at the first opportunity the next morning.

The timing was convenient. He had not been hunting recently, and until then, the only plan he had considered for the holiday was training at the Lion’s Holy Office.

“Oh, Ren-dono?”

A servant who was also awake early called to him as he left his room and headed toward the entrance hall.

“It is not even dawn. Why are you awake at this hour?”

“I have not left the city lately, so I thought I would enjoy a change of scenery. There is also some fruit that can only be picked at this time of day.”

“Fruit that can only be picked at this hour…?”

The servant tilted his head. Ren seemed to be in a hurry, however, so the man did not question him further and simply saw him off.

After leaving the mansion, Ren headed for the stables on the estate.

Among the horses used by the knights was Io, the mare that had once belonged to Yelquq. She had matured alongside Ren, and her beautiful chestnut coat gleamed in the dim light.

When Io noticed him approaching, she greeted him with a pleased neigh.

“Let us go on an outing together for the first time in a while.”

Io answered enthusiastically.

With Ren on her back, she set off in high spirits. The rhythm of her hoofbeats echoed as they left the mansion grounds.

At the gate leading out of Elendil, a knight on duty noticed them.

“Oh? Where are you going at this hour?”

“To the forest. I wanted a change of scenery for the first time in a while.”

“Ha ha ha! That sounds good. Please be careful!”

The knight sent Ren on his way without questioning the explanation.

After roughly an hour at a gallop, the edge of the sky began to brighten.

A little more than ten minutes later, Ren slowed Io to a walk. Once they entered the forest, they soon reached an animal trail.

“There is a clearing at the end of this path. Let us go there.”

Ren guided Io onward by the reins.

Before long, the trees opened around a clearing about the size of an ordinary house.

Ren let Io wander freely and looked toward the morning sky.

“Now then…”

He studied the fruit growing on a nearby tree.

The fruit had remained green until the spreading light of dawn touched it. Then it turned a vivid red. Ren picked it at the proper moment and placed it in the burlap sack he had brought.

The harvest was merely a bonus. His true purpose lay elsewhere.

He had only remembered the fruit while traveling toward the forest. Since it would make a pleasant gift for everyone at the mansion, he decided to gather some while he was there.

Already wearing the completed boots, Ren fastened the Flame King’s Gauntlet around his arm and tightened its straps.

“Come forth.”

He spoke the words partly to rouse his own spirit.

A bronze-colored sword covered in crimson patterns manifested in his hand. Before obtaining the Flame King’s Gauntlet, Ren had been unable to summon the Flame Magic Sword because the backlash alone was too severe.

He had wondered whether adding another piece of equipment made from Asval’s horn might produce a further change. That was why he had left the mansion so early to test it.

His prediction proved correct.

“Io, I knew it. There is no backlash at all.”

Io gave a brief response without looking toward him, as though the matter did not interest her.

Even so, the sword was clearly easier to summon than before.

Delighted that the result matched his expectations, Ren gave the Flame Magic Sword a light swing. Red fire, unlike the golden flames he had displayed at the Grand Clock Tower, rippled briefly before him and then vanished.

When he swung again while consciously suppressing the flames, no fire appeared on its own. Only a faint afterimage followed the blade.

(If I can control this magic sword exactly as I wish, perhaps I can reach Sword Saint sooner.)

Even for someone with Ren’s talent and discipline, reaching Sword Saint in the Mighty Sword Style would be extraordinarily difficult.

There was no doubt that daily practice was the shortest path to growth. Ren’s own experience proved as much.

Still, he felt that training alone was not the only matter he needed to consider.

His thoughts returned to the clash in which he had demonstrated his strength before Edgar.

It had been the first time Ren used Mighty Sword Art: Star Slaying to prove himself. No matter how often he recalled the exchange, Edgar’s ferocity remained unforgettable.

At the time, Ulysses, Radius, and the others had been advancing their plan concerning the Grand Clock Tower without telling Ren.

“I will show you the mighty sword of one who can wield magic!”

Ren had made a wager with Edgar.

If he endured Edgar’s special attack, the Sword Saint would take him to Ulysses and the others.

Edgar had done exactly as promised, demonstrating the swordsmanship of a warrior who could wield magic.

In addition to the two swords in his hands, every ice blade he created carried the force of a weapon wrapped in expertly controlled Mantle.

“Do not underestimate me, Sword Saint.”

Ren had answered without retreating and swung his own sword.

At first, he met Edgar’s ice blades one after another, using Mantle to its fullest. Yet there were too many, and they moved too quickly.

Everyone watching believed Ren had already endured remarkably well.

(…)

(I will win this wager with everything I have cultivated at the Lion’s Holy Office.)

The force generated by Ren’s determination made the training sword in his hand blur. Before the eyes of everyone present, he crossed into a new realm and swung according to the impulse surging through him.

“Haa… haa…!”

He did not merely endure the attack.

He cut through it.

Ren’s sword erased the ice blade just before it struck him. Mighty Sword Art: Star Slaying stripped the ice of its magical power, and it dissolved into ordinary water before his eyes.

“Impossible… How did your sword reach that level so quickly…?”

Edgar’s astonishment escaped in his voice.

“Well… what do you think? I endured it properly, did I not…?”

“You did far more than endure it! Astonishing… You are even more gifted than I believed.”

With the watching knights left speechless, Ren won the wager.

The sensation of that day remained vivid. It was an unforgettable moment in which excitement filled his entire body and made him conscious that he had crossed a threshold.

Ren stared silently at the palm of the hand that did not hold the Flame Magic Sword.

It had been only one clash, but Edgar’s strength was genuine.

Star Slaying could not erase every spell without limit. Had Edgar fought with the intent to kill, the outcome might have been different.

Yet Ren’s thoughts did not stop there.

“I must…”

He had to reach that realm himself.

He had sworn to become strong, and therefore he had to continue growing stronger.

To become a Sword Saint, he would have to open the door standing before him.

He wanted to attempt everything available to him now rather than relying solely on his ordinary training.

Part of him understood that he was still laying his foundations and that aspiring to Edgar’s level might be premature.

Nevertheless, Edgar’s words – the mighty sword of one who can wield magic – remained fixed in Ren’s mind.

He wanted to feel again the tremor of growth that had raced through his entire body that day.

As he looked down at the Flame Magic Sword and imagined the person he might become, the cry of a nearby monster suddenly reached him.

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