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HEL SCANS
[Translator – Peptobismol]
[Proofreader – Demon God]
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“Instructor Navirose has summoned you. She has something to say regarding the Festival of Swords”
“The Festival of Swords?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. He had heard of it a few times before—an assembly or ceremony where exceptional swordsmen from across the continent gathered. There were even rumors that the legendary Holy Sword was hidden somewhere in Parzan, where the ceremony was held.
Come to think of it, when he returned from the Mental World and met up with Navirose, she mentioned that the Festival of Swords was approaching soon. Ronan was about to follow Shullifen out. However, Aselle grabbed his sleeve, stopping him.
“Just a moment.”“Huh?”
Aselle hesitated, lips twitching as if he was restless. Ronan turned to Shullifen and spoke.
“I’ll catch up soon. You go ahead.”
“Don’t be too late. It’s in Arena 1.”
Shullifen left the room. Ronan spoke after the sound of footsteps had completely faded.
“What’s going on?”
“I think I need to show you this.”
Rummaging through his belongings, Aselle pulled out a black book.. It was “The Vijra of Destruction,” a forbidden book, written by the Savior. As he flipped through the pages, he reached the last one and unfolded it. Ronan’s eyes widened.
“This is…”
“After returning from Rodolan, it changed like this. Or more precisely, a page was added.”
Aselle stammered, and he seemed uneasy. It looked as if the paper was directly cut out from ice. The last new page was completely stained white.
An eerie cold air was escaping from the page, which was clearly made of different materials. As Ronan took a closer look, he saw small letters engraved on it. Ronan raised his eyebrows.
“What’s written here? Frozen… Field?”
“It’s a spell and the technique for using ice magic. It’s written in great detail. When I think I have learned everything, the content automatically changes to the next level…”
“What?”
“I don’t really understand either. Why did this happen?”
Aselle continued, stumbling over his words. It seemed like the book spontaneously progressed to the next level of knowledge as soon as Aselle felt he had mastered the current one.
Among the information, there were even spells and techniques that were unknown in academic circles, and Aselle was able to manipulate ice at such a fast pace thanks to the book. Ronan frowned.
“It feels unpleasant.”
It wasn’t just about usefulness; the fact that an inanimate book was behaving like a sentient being was unsettling. As Ronan was scrutinizing the last page, a familiar voice was heard.
[Nice to see you.]
“Kyaaah!”
“Shit, what is this?”
Aselle jumped in surprise. Ronan instinctively snatched the book and threw it. Thud! As Aselle backtracked rapidly, he stopped as his head hit the wall. After catching his breath, he spoke in a teary voice.
“Wh-What was that just now? Huh?!”
“…It was definitely that b*tch’s voice.”
It was the voice of the Winter Witch. At that moment, Ronan was looking around with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
[Aya… but isn’t it a little too much to throw me away?]
The witch’s voice was heard again! Ronan turned his head in the direction of the sound. Vajra was lying open on the floor. He slowly opened his mouth.
“…What did you say?”
[That’s right, child. It’s been a while since I last saw you.]
“What the hell, what’s happening?”
The witch’s voice came from the book, or more precisely, from the last white page that had turned even paler. The witch, who was laughing softly, continued her words.
[I was able to dramatically retain my soul. Ah, it was really dangerous.]
“You retained your soul?”
[Yes. Because the ritual had progressed to a certain extent, I could leave a part of my soul in this book. That’s why I can converse with you. It’s not to the extent of that child, but this vessel is quite remarkable as well.]
The witch explained that she owes her existence to the ritual she performed in Rodolan. She added that apart from destroying the souls of Evelin and Aselle, one of her purposes was to fragment her own soul and place it within Vijra.
Her confidence was astounding, to the point of being outrageous. In a fit of anger, Ronan grabbed the hilt of his sword.
“You damn b*tch.”
Picking up Vijra, he unfolded the last page and pointed the tip of the blade at the pure white paper. The moment Ronan raised his arms.
[Now, wait a moment! What are you trying to do right now? Stop!]
F*ck stopping. How would I know you’re not going to pull off another stunt?”
The witch shouted in a perplexed voice. Ronan explained that he would cut out the last chapter separately, put it in an envelope, and send it to the Twilight Tower where Lorhon resided. The originally white paper became even paler.
[I-I truly have no intention of doing that this time! If I had been planning to do something, I wouldn’t have said anything to you in the first place. Wouldn’t I?]
“Then why are you suspiciously acting like a mentor? Huh?”
[I merely wish to teach this child, like that old man Lorehon! All I can do in my current state… is just that.]
“Explain.”
Ronan sheathed his sword. The witch, barely having survived, continued.
[…I have passed through many vessels. I’ve danced in the eyes of over three digits of mortals. I remember all their names.]
“Quite a boast.”
[However, even though I escaped, I was never able to use my abilities to their fullest extent.]
The witch explained that Aselle gaining the ability to manipulate ice was an unprecedented event. There had been occasions where she resided in a person’s body for over a decade, yet even she, the witch, frighteningly lost her power upon leaving the body.
Just looking at Evelin was evidence. While she could manipulate ice, it wasn’t the witch’s, but the original ice wielded by Evelin, the Frost Mage.
[That child is special. It’s the first time since my existence that I’ve felt the urge to teach someone.]
“You’re not planning to use education as an excuse to increase your power, are you? To find that man who resembles me.”
[Ahaha… That child won’t even bother meeting me. Besides, it’s impossible to increase my strength in this state.]
The witch sighed. She indicated that apart from her fingernails, Lorehon had taken away every part of her body. As Ronan said, she wanted to regain her strength, but her soul had been ripped away, leaving no room for growth.
[With this feeble soul, I can’t do anything. Speaking or projecting words on paper is the limit. Just barely surviving is all I can manage.]
It was a declaration of having no remaining power to pull off deceitful acts. Judging by the mana sensed from the last page, it seemed like the truth. After a moment of silence, the witch spoke again.
[Just let me teach that child. If I break my promise or attempt to deceive, feel free to do as you please with me.]
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HEL SCANS
[Translator – Peptobismol]
[Proofreader – Demon God]
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There was a sense of resignation in her tone, which felt genuine. Ronan’s lips twisted in various ways. While it required the premise that all of the witch’s words were true, it was honestly quite an enticing offer.
Who in the world would receive one-on-one education from a high-ranking spirit akin to Hyrian? However, it was a matter that couldn’t be easily entertained. Ronan nudged Aselle’s shoulder as he let out a sigh.
“Aselle, it’s up to you.”
“Uh, huh…?”
“Do you trust the words of this monster? You’ve experienced having your body taken away once, you should know.”
“Tg-That’s…”
Aselle stumbled over his words. Even now, he still felt the shivers down his spine. The frozen time, the embrace of the woman, and the destructive movements of his own body. As he stared fixedly at Vijra, he spoke.
“…It is true that it has been weakened. At least it doesn’t have enough power left to influence me. That’s for sure.”
“Does that mean?”
“…I want to learn.”
With closed eyes, Aselle nodded. He needed to become stronger to prevent such incidents from happening again. Ronan chuckled and sheathed his sword. The voice of the witch echoed.
[That is indeed the right decision. Beautiful child.]
****
In the end, Aselle chose to become the witch’s apprentice. Ronan left the room feeling relieved only after witnessing the witch and Aselle proceeding with the Mana Oath, a lesser version of the Blood Oath.
‘He’s ecoming bolder. About time.’
Ronan chuckled to himself as he walked down the corridor. As Aselle’s eager gaze faded from his mind, he ruminated on how that guy, who struggled to even kill a goblin properly, had grown so much.
Lost in various thoughts, he suddenly arrived at Arena 1. Shullifen and Navirose were already there, engaged in a conversation.
No other students were in sight. Locking eyes with Navirose, Ronan grinned.
“The hero who ended the endless winter has arrived. Thank you for sparing time for a humble teacher.”
“Damn it, stop making fun of me.”
Navirose chuckled. Fortunately, her complexion seemed much better compared to the last time. It seemed the emotional scars from losing to Zaifa had healed to some extent.
“It was a joke. Was there something urgent?”
“Yeah, a friend had to make a life-changing decision.”
“If that’s the reason, nothing can be done. Stand next to Shullifen.”
Ronan did as instructed. Navirose’s expression grew serious. Alternating her gaze between the two, she spoke.
“Yesterday, I received a message from the Holy City of Parzan. They said the Festival of Swords will take place in mid-next month. You’re probably familiar with it, but it’s a prestigious event where only those of a certain skill level can participate.”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. It seemed like she called only the two of them separately for a reason. Shullifen raised his hand and asked.
“It seems to have been brought forward from the original schedule. Any reason for that?”
“I don’t really know. The elders in Parzan decide on the dates. But it’s a fact that this is an unusual case. Usually, they strictly adhere to the schedule.”
Navirose shook her head. Judging by her expression of puzzlement, it seemed like she found it equally strange.
“I believe one of you should go, representing all the grades.”
“…One?”
“Yes. Only one teacher and one student from Philleon Academy can attend. Only the stronger of the two of you can accompany me to Parzan.”
As soon as they heard those words, Ronan and Schlieffen looked at each other at the same time. A moment of silent acknowledgment passed between them. They both wore an air of detachment that suggested no intention to back down.
“No intention to yield, right?”
“Thought you knew I don’t joke.”
Ronan chuckled softly. The serene atmosphere transformed abruptly into something fierce. Shullifen, gazing at him silently, muttered lowly.
“Can’t be helped.”
For an instant, a palpable tension seemed to rise from Shullifen’s shoulders. It echoed the solemnity he’d shown when vowing to uphold their oath almost two years ago. It seemed he felt a considerable weight about the upcoming event of the Festival of Swords.
‘Is it that important of an event?’
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Frankly, he held no particular feelings about the Festival of Swords. It was information unheard of even in his previous life—a celebration whose primary significance, the Holy Sword, was quite literally a fantastical and elusive existence.
But if you were to ask whether he intended to step back, that wasn’t the case either. Ronan’s attention was directed towards the gathering of the strongest swordsmen from various regions.
Considering the possibility of free sparring, it seemed it would aid in honing his skills, and perhaps, he could find a reliable ally. That’s when Navirose spoke up.
“I’ll decide who will go three days before we depart for Parzan based on the outcome of a duel.”
Ronan and Shullifen nodded. Up to this point, it was as expected. Unexpectedly, Navirose uttered something entirely unanticipated.
“But there’s a condition. You are prohibited from sparring among yourselves for the remainder of the month.”
[TL/N: whoever wins gets a date with mommyrose ^-^]
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HEL SCANS
[Translator – Peptobismol]
[Proofreader – Demon God]
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