Ch.205Sword Saint Society (2)

“Maya was… a duelist scholar.”

I couldn’t ignore the Sword Saint’s request to immigrate. Llewellyn said he would consider it and granted permission for them to set up a temporary camp and rest from their journey.

The Sword Saint’s group set up camp on the uphill path at the mountain’s entrance.

Within sight of Arba’s people, at an ambiguous distance where a sword thrust could easily cut their throats.

Llewellyn frowned, feeling uncomfortable.

He did so even knowing they wouldn’t actually attack. After all, they were the Sword Saint and his disciples.

The most dangerous minority group on the continent.

They deserved caution. They were like predators.

Predators whose inner thoughts were unknowable and with whom dialogue seemed impossible.

‘Though we could communicate verbally.’

Whether that could truly be called dialogue was questionable.

The Sword Saint was someone who could communicate and speak reasonably, but…

There was something fundamental about him that felt vastly different from humans.

He couldn’t be described as simply free-spirited or willful.

He was someone who had reached the position of Sword Saint by spending his life cutting down humans and slaying monsters.

What made it more problematic was that he hadn’t done so out of hatred or revenge, but simply from competitive spirit and desire for self-improvement.

Normal humans, no matter how much they desire growth or feel competitive, don’t cut down over a hundred people in one place.

That’s precisely why he was the Sword Saint. An incomparably dangerous being.

Llewellyn was lost in thought, and noticing the silence, waved his hand.

“I’m listening. Continue.”

Melody made a sour face, counted on her fingers, and spoke.

While listening to her, Llewellyn wondered to himself.

What did the Sword Saint want? Why had he come here?

Valterok’s purpose had been clear. He wanted to raise Llewellyn.

He wanted to recreate the gods and rebuild the pantheon. For him, a golem, that was a clear principle of action.

But what about the Sword Saint?

Llewellyn didn’t know. He couldn’t tell why the Sword Saint had come or what his goal was.

He couldn’t even guess what the Sword Saint wanted from him, so he couldn’t act rashly.

There was no guarantee that taking action would yield good results.

Separate from Llewellyn’s thoughts, Melody spoke.

It wasn’t a completely candid confession. Lucilla had heard some of this before.

“Unlike me, Maya was born and raised in a prestigious family within the duelist faction.”

“Didn’t you say you were born and raised there too?”

“I was born and raised there, but I wasn’t from a prestigious family.”

Melody stroked her forearm with a somewhat gloomy expression.

Lucilla stared at her for a moment before quietly approaching and putting an arm around her shoulder.

Perhaps because of their height difference, it looked like an older sister comforting her younger sibling.

‘But I’m the younger one.’

Llewellyn felt a slight twinge of jealousy but didn’t show it, and Melody relaxed her shoulders at the warm, comforting touch.

“I was never treated well, even with empty words. Maya was the opposite. She was a promising talent.”

A promising talent. But Llewellyn had never even heard her name.

It seemed that even if he had chosen to attack the duelist faction, he wouldn’t have had the chance to fight her.

“For a promising talent, it’s an unfamiliar name. I’ve never heard of her,” said Lorian, resting his chin on his hand.

Melody gave an awkward smile at his words.

“She wasn’t promising enough for the three clans to pay attention to her. She was only promising within the duelist faction, which was stagnant and corrupt but still had some influence… and she was still young.”

That was how Melody evaluated Maya. Someone with potential but still young.

“Indeed. Her sword strikes were quite sharp.”

But her talent and potential seemed certain. Judging by Lorian’s high praise, it was definite.

“The fact that the Sword Saint took her as a disciple proves that. Though I didn’t expect it.”

Looking at Melody’s bitter smile, Llewellyn let out a contemplative sigh.

“How is she still alive? This person called Maya.”

“She had already fled when we brought down the duelist faction.”

Lucilla’s words. Llewellyn listened carefully to his sister.

“Like that duelist mage we fought recently. When the duelist faction fell, several of them escaped. This is the first time I’ve heard about this Maya too.”

It meant Melody hadn’t mentioned this before. But Llewellyn didn’t blame her.

No one did.

It wasn’t as if a problem had arisen; she had simply kept quiet about something painful.

Rather than deception, it was more accurate to call it reticence. So Llewellyn tilted his chair and wiggled his fingers.

“Did she bully you, Melody?”

“…What?”

“Maya, was it? That dog beastkin, did she bully you?”

Melody pondered for a moment before shaking her head.

“I’m not trying to defend her, so don’t worry. Truly… Maya didn’t pay much attention to me. If anything, she would snap at those who bullied me, saying they were wasting energy on base and useless things.”

She would have said it with a growl, ears twitching, wearing a haughty expression.

Llewellyn could imagine that small dog beastkin and thought it seemed plausible. In fact, it was easy to picture in his mind.

“But now she wants revenge.”

“Yes. That’s right. It’s not strange, is it?”

“What do you want to do?”

Melody didn’t answer. Instead, Llewellyn looked at Eshatherna, who had somehow appeared at his side.

It could end in an instant if desired.

Though he wasn’t sure if that was necessary, it wasn’t his decision to make.

“…If something happens, I want to resolve it myself.”

Silence fell after she spoke.

The implication was obvious.

A fight to the death.

Whether she died or her opponent died.

A request not to intervene. Though unlikely, it was a request to send her off with tears, sorrow, and mourning if she died.

It was essentially asking them to let things unfold naturally.

Naturally, no response followed.

No one can stand by and watch a close friend, a loved one, a long-time companion who is like family die, and…

Considering the problems that could arise whether they intervened or not, it was difficult to decide either way.

Especially because they knew how difficult it was.

The opponent was the Sword Saint’s group, and if a conflict arose, it wouldn’t be mediation but war.

And if that happened, the damage would be immense. Llewellyn would likely regret choosing to intervene.

After contemplating, Llewellyn spoke.

“No.”

“Thank… Oh, um, what?”

Melody froze, having almost expressed gratitude prematurely.

Llewellyn crossed his arms and looked at the petrified girl.

The girl had lost both her eyes. In the distant past, she had even lost her wings, leaving her with no visible symbol of being a bird beastkin.

A bird beastkin without wings. How was that different from a dog beastkin without a tail, ears, or sense of smell?

Losing a part of one’s body wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Though he and his sister were homunculi who could regenerate.

Humans couldn’t. Llewellyn didn’t like seeing Melody, who had lost so much, standing there worrying about others’ reactions.

“I don’t like seeing the once-confident Melody acting so pathetically, and I don’t like that annoying dog bitch causing trouble.”

The consecutive use of vulgar language, something he rarely did in his sister’s presence.

Lucilla’s eyes widened in rare surprise, but Llewellyn continued impassively, feeling his sister’s gaze.

“I don’t like sitting idle while someone who cares about me might die, and I don’t want to see that person despair, thinking ‘everything was ruined because of me.'”

Either outcome was possible. With only two choices, it felt like an inevitability that couldn’t be avoided.

Llewellyn rejected such inevitability.

“Then… what are you going to do?”

But rejection alone isn’t enough. Rejecting inevitability and then just screaming, crying, and throwing tantrums as it approaches is childish behavior.

Although Llewellyn often showed childish and infantile sides, he wasn’t truly a child.

Rather, Llewellyn was mature and knew his place.

Even his pretense of being cheerful and simple, which he had started to avoid worrying his sister, had become second nature to him.

“Maya will want revenge, and I can’t stop that…”

The Sword Saint didn’t deny revenge. Rather, he suggested revenge was natural, and getting caught up and dying was a common occurrence.

Truly befitting someone who had killed people to hone his sword skills.

Melody’s only option was to kill Maya to avoid being killed herself.

The only other option for others was to kill Maya first or interfere.

Either way, the result would be worse than not choosing at all.

As Melody realized this and became dejected, Llewellyn quietly spoke, offering a solution.

“Maya must have gone from being a duelist scholar to a member of the Sword Saint’s group, a sword keeper.”

At this sudden statement, Melody turned her head, and Llewellyn steadily faced her senses other than sight.

“So her foundation must still be that of a duelist scholar. The discomfort I felt and ran from was due to the unique mana of duelist scholars.”

There was no melody. No song, no speech.

But Llewellyn had some idea from what he had experienced through Melody and in the game.

Duelist scholars were the most unique type of bards.

They adorned, proved, and sang of themselves through duels.

How they sang wasn’t important.

“Maya’s duelist scholar magic seems to be through harsh criticism and condemnation.”

“How…?”

“That’s not what’s important. What matters is that as long as she’s obsessed with revenge, fixated on Melody, and still using duelist scholar techniques, Maya isn’t fully a sword keeper.”

A logical statement that still made one tilt their head in confusion. As Melody’s eye area twitched in puzzlement, Llewellyn continued.

“And Melody is a duelist scholar. So is Maya.”

Llewellyn was certain.

Though he hadn’t spent much time with Maya, based on Melody’s testimony and his own observations…

“This doesn’t have to be a conflict between the pantheon and the Sword Saint’s group, nor a bloody revenge drama between two former duelist faction members… it could be a place where two duelist scholars harmonize and sing together.”

He believed she would choose being a duelist scholar over being a sword keeper.

Melody listened silently before finally tilting her head.

“…Isn’t that ultimately the same as what I was going to say?”

It seemed the fact that Melody and Maya would fight remained unchanged, prompting her response.

But Llewellyn smiled.

“You’ll see.”

With that confident attitude, Llewellyn took Melody toward the Sword Saint’s group.

Certain that the Sword Saint he knew would never refuse this proposal.