Nurturing the Hero to Avoid Death

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I strike my sword against my opponent’s blade, but he repels it. A reverberating clank as it hits the ground.

It all happens within a single moment.

Back then, it had been a test in will and strength, the blades of our swords pressing against each other’s. If I were to push forward with all my strength, I should win. At least, that’s how I pictured it.

In terms of power, he’s currently weaker than me, and his body was also much smaller than mine. But if I said that to him, his face would flush bright red from anger. He’d even try to twist my words around, and say it’s me who was too big. Yet…

He defended against my blows without break, not bothering to counterattack. A blink, and he parried my attack, lunging at my chest.

It caught me off guard.

And of course, he didn’t let this opportunity slip.

He thrust out a hand to grasp the handle of my sword, barely managing to take hold of the end of it, lightly twisting it in a peculiar way. This caused me to loosen my grip.

With that, he tossed the sword away from me.

As always, his fluid movements are beautiful enough to admire.

But this is no time to stand there dazedly. Back in the present, I throw my body back in the blink of an eye. The moment I think I’ve gotten away, his sword stops a mere hairbreadth from my nose.

“Okay, that’s enough! Owen wins!”

Perpetually yawning and nodding off, the sword instructor raises his hand to signal the end of the match.

Cheers erupt from the trio that’s always glued to my opponent’s side, as well as from some of the students that often watch us from a distance.

The local town’s swordsmanship class sponsors a small tournament of sorts each month during the weekend, a simple match-up game against opponents of similar strength.

The sword instructor determines who will fight against who after looking at the students’ abilities.

Ever since I’ve entered the school, my opponent is usually… No, I’ve always had the same opponent.

Since no one there besides me can put up a fight with him in the sword.

It seems like my opponent practices the sword under a hired tutor, someone from the capital.

Although my opponent looks soft and calm, in reality he is a pretty aggressive guy who refuses to lose. Because of that, he is very diligent when it comes to practice.

And since he is especially trained in the sword, his skill can no longer be compared with that of anyone in the local school.

This I know all too well, yet the consecutive defeats are too vexing, even for me.

Breaking his winning streak is my current goal.

In order to do this, I sometimes ask a local school teacher for guidance.

That teacher is like me, someone who came from a faraway place.

Perhaps because he has fought in real battles multiple times, his teaching methods are much rougher than those of the local school teacher who graduated from the knight academy. That said, his methods of teaching are suitable in a battle setting, granting me a higher chance of winning a fight.

In a real battlefield, the enemy definitely will not fight us in a polite and courteous manner. That is a matter of course.

My thoughts enter different waters. Although this instructor is actually quite the flirt sometimes, he really does take good care of me. Even after I’ve graduated, he still flirts… I mean, wholeheartedly teaches me. Therefore, I’m very grateful to him. That doesn’t make him any less of a flirt, though.

After every loss, I visit him for feedback. He’d give me guidance, albeit with a flirt here and there. Then I’d enter a match with my opponent only to lose again. It’s like a never-ending cycle.

My opponent and I have never had another student as our practice partner.

His soft ice-blue eyes curve in happiness and he slightly and proudly tilts his chin up at me.

“…Such a shame, Alfred. I win again,” says Lian, basking in his joy. “Even though it seemed like you had a chance in defeating me, in reality the gap between our strengths is still large.”

A sigh escapes my lips.

…I also thought I was going to win our match.

I wonder why. He is weaker, thinner, and shorter than me, but I’m still unable to win against him. Even though I’m able to put up a good fight, I’m still…

“I already told you, stop relying on that stupid strength of yours. Don’t keep charging at me right away. Don’t you know─”

I listen to Lian’s lecture in silence. He always does this after a fight. Always lectures at me like a teacher, pointing out my flaws. It’s a bit frustrating, but he’s not wrong. Plus, he’s doing this for my own good.

“…Hey, you. Are you really listening to me?”

“Huh, uh… Why I can’t win, huh… Why can’t I win when you’re not stronger than me and your body is so small…?”

As soon as these words leave my mouth,, Lian’s face flushes.

“Wha…!! I-I’m not small!! This is normal! Don’t say something so rude! You are the one who’s too big! Give me your height!!”

His reply is so unreasonable, and he even sputtered it.

“That’s impossible, though.”

“Ughh!! Y-you talk too mu─”

Lian’s three groupies rush to our side.

“Lian-sama…! You did a good job!”

“Lian-sama! Really, you’re so awesome!”

“Lian-sama!! That was very, very beautiful!”

Noticing them, Lian closes his mouth and shoots his gaze back at me. His face is still red.

“A-anyway, exert more of an effort, okay?”

“I got it,” I say obediently. Convinced, Lian nods and approaches the trio.

As I observe Lian’s departing figure, I catch sight of his still-flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. His quivering thin eyebrows the color of spun silver.

I want to touch him again.

Just like that night.

Whenever he talks to me, the desire to touch him is heavy and relentless. I get impatient, but I can easily imagine if I do run my fingers over his skin, he will most likely, no, he will definitely be angry again. So I restrain my urges.

If I embrace him, he may not want to talk to me for a while. For this reason, I must wait until his anger and vigilance have settled down first. It’s necessary, but truly hard.

I sigh once more.

That night… I was able to touch him as much as I wanted.

As I kissed and touched him, he narrowed his eyes and laughed, his cheeks flushed red.

His tear-streaked cheeks coupled with his damp silver eyelashes made him appear like a pitiful child. But as light reflected upon them, he seemed breathtaking…

…Unfortunately, after that, Lian immediately lost consciousness. And the next morning, when I tried to touch him again, he ran away in a huff. To put it simply, he reverted to his usual self.

I don’t know what happened to Lian those days when I wasn’t around, but it seems like I’m involved in it.

He was crying alone in my room, trembling like a young child.

Gaze locked upon my form, he begged me to bring him along. To not leave him. To stay together with him. All while crying and desperately clinging to me.

Like a child, he had cried from loneliness

Even now, I still don’t know what the catalyst was.

I’ve asked him several times, but for some reason he keeps his mouth shut.

I wonder why.

His life is enviable: a life without any inconvenience, a guaranteed secure future, as well as a complete family.

So why is he feeling so lonely to the point of crying and begging like that?

For Lian, there shouldn’t be even a slight shadow of loneliness inside him.

…That’s if… he is the real Lian.

Whenever my thoughts run in this direction, I can’t help but laugh. This is really too ridiculous.

How could that possibly be true?

In front of me is Lian. There is no one else that could be Lian.

There is no way that I’m wrong.

But somehow…

Although such thoughts spur on my laughter, I also can’t help but recall the words of the stargazer back at Fottel VIllage.

I didn’t ask for her service. Out of her own volition, this woman whose origins I knew not stared at me and gave me a star reading. One that, to this day, I have yet to understand completely.

In her own words, there is “a small star that the grieving Goddess sent from another distant dimension to accompany me.”

I have no clue what she means by that.

She didn’t specify who the star referred to.

She also didn’t elaborate.

Her words were too simple and vague to the point where I couldn’t determine whether she was being literal or metaphorical.

Or if they even had a meaning at all.

Maybe she strung up some words to sound profound.

Like the old fortune teller standing by a dim hearth, asking those who pass by for money after spouting some nonsense.

But since she didn’t ask for money, that woman might not be that sort of person. Her words had merely functioned as those of an anonymous passerby, their fate to be thrown into the back of one’s mind at any time.

Therefore, I don’t have to think too deeply about her words.

And yet…

That profound, unintelligible, and ambiguous string of words remains in my mind…

The woman had worn a black robe torn in various places, face enshrouded by the depths of her hood. She carried an old and jet-black wooden wand that had seen better days, various unfamiliar measuring tools, a few used and discolored books, and a bundle of paper.

Her age was a mystery to me. In fact, I know almost nothing of her, be it her birthplace or anything else.

Her hair was long and black, eyes dark as a starless sky, both of which were rare in this region.

And her skin was as white as porcelain.

Only her lips held a bit of color, being slightly red.

She’s just like me. The colors of her hair and eyes were rare, deemed as strange in this country where the norm was brown for both.

Perhaps she had covered her face with a large hood to hide those unique features.

And even though she had hid her features as best she could, sometimes they could still be seen. In those instances, the passing villagers would give a sidelong glance.

However, her features complemented her beauty, making her look like doll like, causing others to second guess themselves whether she was actually human. To say her beauty felt foreign and otherworldly would be fact.

That woman said she was researching the stars using her star-reading techniques.

She traveled the world by foot, recording the stars’ arrangement, predicting where the stars might move. After determining the meaning behind the stars’ movements, she’d know where to go next.

In her words, all of God’s creations, including me and even the demons we feared so much, were split from fragments of the stars. One day, they would return whole again.

It is said that all stars traveled in a circle, changing direction and fortune without end.

Again and again…

After saying that, the woman stared me straight in the eye. And for some reason, a thin smile had slid its way across her lips.

That star reader’s words remain with me to this day, emblazoned in my mind.

Special thanks to Kuu-san for the ko-fi!

I’m thinking of releasing this tomorrow but since it’s finished then why not now!!

Please welcome my new editor, ASplashofMusic! ヾ(・ω・*)ノ When I realized that both of my editors are Chinese translators, and I can’t help but to feel a weird sense of shock and confusion. (๑￫ܫ￩) They are also really good at forming/repairing words! I hope one day I can be as good as them!!!

Also, NomadicStardust-san made a fanart for chapter 15!!! Now that I realized it, I haven’t linked to the artist who drew NHAD new cover (I hope the artist won’t sue me), so let’s give our appreciations to the them~ (｡•ㅅ•｡)♡

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