The Weeping Swordsman

“God?” Pasta asked, his tone curious. “Do you mean the king, perhaps? Or is it a divine being you speak of?”

Mr. Swordsman drew his blade, his eyes fixed on its lustrous surface.

“Apparently, there is no god in this world. Absurd for an individual to single-handedly distinguish himself from the masses to the extent they’re considered divinity.” Mr. Swordsman eyed Pasta, who was puzzled at his statement.

“But what if I said one exists? Not necessarily a deity, but a being that is not human.”

“What do you mean?”

Mr Swordsman removed his hat, his hair following the rhythm of the morning breeze.

“Pasta,” he said, “How do you feel about attaining a gift?”

Pasta laughed hysterically and fell on his back on the stream. He calmed himself and stood on his feet.

“You are an adult man,” he said. “How can you believe in those bedtime stories-”. Pasta went silent, seeing the face Mr. Swordsman had on. He was deadly serious.

“I understand why you may not believe in them. These beings rarely make themselves known and prefer to conceal their identities.” He wore back his hat. “Once you have mastered your aura, fought your battles, experienced both loss and self-discovery and achieved inner peace within yourself, you will be rewarded with an extraordinary gift from this divine entity. “

Mr. Swordsman eyed the clouds, the storm drawing near. “According to the legends surrounding these gifts, some possess the power to dismantle kingdoms, while others can be utilized for healing and protection, and some both. Ultimately, the potential of these gifts lies in the hands of their wielders.”

Pasta has heard it all. Gifts were mere rumours, tales told to children so they fall asleep and sometimes put them in place. He chuckled, pulling down his soaked trousers.

“My sister and I used to hear about them from our Mother. I always thought she might have exaggerated how strong they were, though.” He said.

Pasta fell in thought. Mr Swordsman is a strange one. Does he genuinely believe in this tale? Pasta met his eyes and turned away slowly. No, he’s not joking. So does that mean...

“Do you perhaps have a gift?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. You seemed pretty strong the first time we met at Bloodborne’s office. So It won’t be a surprise if you did.”

“Remember this, Pasta,” Mr. Swordsman said, “A gift may make you stronger, but its source is still your aura. Someone who has endured a lot but doesn’t have a gift can easily outperform someone who did little and received one. Keep in mind, it all depends on the person.”

“I see. So the goal then isn’t just to attain a gift but to improve one’s aura,” Pasta said, holding his chin. “A gift grants unimaginable powers that rely on aura, and aura relies on one’s stamina and grit. In all, working on the latter will significantly go a long way. But still, I wonder how many possess these gifts. This concept is still foreign to me if all this is true. I wonder how many possess gifts”

Mr. Swordsman nodded. “I’ve been travelling for the past three years and I’m yet to find another with a gift. They hide since this kingdom sees it as a taboo”

“I’m aware of it being a taboo,” he said, realizing what Mr. Sowrdsman spoke, “So you do have one.”

“Yes, I do.”

Mr. Swordsman glared at Pasta’s beaming face and could have sworn he saw some glitters of light around him. “There’s no time for this. You’ve heard what I said about gifts. If your aura isn’t strong enough, you can’t attain one. No one knows how strong it should be and also how to fulfil the other requirements.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Pasta said, his eyes glittering, “What is your gift please tell. Is it the gift of destruction, or not the gift of creating monsters?”

“That’s for another day, and why do you assume I have a gift of that calibre?”

“Well, it fits you, that’s all”

Mr. Swordsman let out a sigh and continued his training, fully aware that the only aspect he could assist Pasta with was his aura. Strengthening one’s aura was no simple feat. It seemed that the most effective method was through combat. Engaging in battles would enhance one’s aura, as well as the actions they took. A person who fought on the battlefield would possess a potent aura, brimming with chaos. On the other hand, someone who dedicated their life to caring for others would possess a calm yet authoritative aura, if skillfully harnessed. Mr. Swordsman couldn’t envision Pasta as the former type, so the best path for improvement lay in rigorous training. However, before that could commence, he needed to teach Pasta a useful coating skill that would prove advantageous in battle.

*

Sparrow lounged on the couch across the end of the dining room, his finger serving as a delicate perch for a colourful butterfly. The morning light bathed the creature’s pink and red wings, creating a stunning display of nature’s beauty. Despite being captivated by the sight, Sparrow’s mind was preoccupied with pressing concerns. “Tony, do you have a plan? Or will you rather stay seated in silence?”

Tony remained muted. He crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, eyes on the roof. Hack also didn’t say a word. What could he say? The order was apparent.

“This is quite unfortunate. First, we have the runaway butler, now we have this issue,” Tony said, his voice low.

“My prediction was off. Who would have taught Mother Luck to show favoritism to the rebels”

Hack was beyond frustrated. He had seen this coming from a mile away. Their plan had been flawed from the start. Originally, they had intended to make a swift exit from town before things went south, but now they were being forced to stick around and oversee the entire operation. He wasn’t ready to meet his end, and neither was he willing to put his life on the line for such a futile cause.

Pyroville was no ordinary town. It was a hub of affairs in the seventh realm. It lived off the income it got from its mineral resources and was a significant revenue generator not only to the seventh realm royal family but also to the sixth and fourth, marking it as a town of critical importance. The royals had grand plans to modernize the town, but the looming threat of war forced them to put everything on hold. Tony and the others managed to thwart the efforts of mercenaries and spies sent to the town, asserting their power over Pyrovile. Now, they are plotting to destroy the entire town and cover it up as an accident. Their plans don’t end there - a prominent noble is due to visit the town soon, and they are determined to end his life in the process. As he holds dangerous knowledge, no man should.

What better way than a natural disaster? One that will wipe out the whole town and the noble with it. This is no new story in history. The volcano and the magma rock played a key role in this operation.

“We have no choice but to remain in town,” Tony said, getting on his feet, as the maids came in and picked up his plates. Sparrow went out for a walk while Hack remained on the table.

Mary took the dishes down to the kitchen, handing them over to the workers responsible for washing them. Gordon lay asleep on a stool in front of the entrance. He held a half-cut tomato, and his knife lay on the floor next to him. The other workers began leaving. They were once discussing here while Tony had breakfast, but now is the time to get back to work. Mary strode towards Gordon and patted him on the shoulder.

“Huh? Hey Good morning Mary”

“Morning”

He stretched his arms and yawned loudly, “I was searching for you all day. Where’ve you been”

She placed her finger on her chin. “Well, I woke up late, fell while taking my bath, spent some time looking for what to wear and I hurriedly went to pick up the dishes. Luckily for me, Lord Tony was too busy to notice I wasn’t present.”

“Okay? That was too much information,” he said, handing her a list. “Here, help me get these ingredients from the local market. Little Bobby will accompany you”

“Alright, any special occasion?”

“Yeah there is,” he said, “special occasion that we’re running out of food and about to die. So speciality of a special occasion, right?”

She chuckled softly, her fingers pressed against her lips, “Yeah you’re right, I’ll go meet LB. He must be exhausted waiting”

“Yes, he should. Now, bye-bye,” he said while making a shooing gesture with his hands. Ever since Hudson left, the manor changed. Everyone was gloomy and unorganized. But as time went on, they began to adapt slowly and it was all thanks to Mary. She single-handedly brought everyone together again, helping each worker in any way she could, just like Hudson. She was known to be the closest to Master Hudson and was considered his shadow, not in a negative way, that is. Now and then, rumours of them dating would spread across the manor, but Hudson would be there to stop it before it reached Tony. She admired and trusted him, and she knew he trusted her, too. The only reason he left was that he knew she would take care of the manor in his stead until he returned.

Mary walked to the entrance of the manor, where she met an armoured knight in the doorway. He was a towering six-foot man with bulging muscles.

“Hey Little Bobby,” she waved at him.

“Morning, Mary. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m ready”

*

Pyroville was a couple of minutes away. The whole crew was inside the carriage. The same goes for Mr. Swordsman, who was forced to get in.

“YOU HAVE A GIFT!” Emilia yelled, falling to her knees. “You also have an outstanding aura. Just how strong are you?”

Tori eyed him, cutting her nails. “You are impressive Mr. Swordsman. I never thought you had a gift. Mind sharing the name with us”

“I don’t plan to,” he said, watching the road through the window.

“How about showing us?” Emilia asked.

“Another time”

Pasta was fast asleep after training hard. Hudson sat nearby, feeling nervous as they journeyed toward Pyroville. His heart felt like it was about to burst out from his chest. But he felt lucky to have companions with him. However, he wondered if they were truly his friends or just there for the payment. He didn’t have enough to repay them, but maybe Gordon might. Emilia noticed Hudson’s frown and sat beside him, gently poking his cheek.

“Nervous?”

“A little, yeah”

She gave him a playful punch, “It’s going to be alright”

“She’s right. If what you said is true, then it won’t take much effort,” Mr Swordsman said.

“I never asked what are you all planning to do in Pyroville,” Tori asked.

Mr Swordsman shook his head at Emilia, who was about to answer.

Tori sighed. “I won’t force it out of you. Keep your secrets. It’s fine.”

Hudson bowed his head and turned to her, “You see-”

“Hold it,” Mr. Swordsman said. “You just met her yesterday. Don’t feel obligated to tell her your plans just because they gave us a ride. She and her grandfather may even be working with that man for all we know.”

“No! you’re wrong. She’s not like that. She’ll never work with them, I’m sure of it. Maybe she can also help.” Emilia said, eyeing Mr. Swordsman, holding off her tears.

“Yes, she can. We can trust her,” Hudson agreed.

Mr. Swordsman sighed, “I understand you want to repay her, but let’s not forget why we got this ride in the first place.” He turned to Pasta.

“But still we should tell her,” Hudson said

“Would you all keep it down already?” She turned to Emilia. “He’s right, we just met yesterday. Don’t worry, I’m not offended.”

Emilia and Hudson stayed silent. Their frustration was evident and Mr. Swordsman was getting the full package. He knew the plan was easy, so it’s obvious he wanted to keep it that way. A rock and a volcano. He sighed.

According to Hudson, his employers plan to destroy the town by the end of the week when a noble from the first realm pays a visit, wiping out the entire town and killing him off in one swoop. The rock is capable of triggering a volcano eruption and making it more disastrous. They planned to steal the rock, which would also stop the eruption.

“You know what?” Tory got up. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you two mope. Mr Swordsman clearly does not trust me, so let’s start all over”

“What do you mean, start all over?” Mr Swordsman said, his eyes meeting hers.

“I mean introductions, let’s start with names shall we-”

“Pass. I don’t have one”

“Oh right I forgot, So I guess I’ll start first,” she said, “A pleasure to meet you, everyone. My name is Tory Anksaw and I’m a S class adventurer”

*

I need to run. What the hell is that thing? A man clad in a simple gear dashed through the burning snow forest.

“Hey, hey. Stop running now. You don’t want to trip. Right?” said a beast, standing tall with unordinary muscles.

“Leave me alone.” The man sprinted as fast as he could, evading the fallen trees and flames.

Thorne moved slowly, his eyes glowing red and his aura dissipating the flames in his path. “The world will end when the clock hits five, or will it bring peace instead? No, it’ll bring both”

“What are you saying, you monster?!”. His aura is no match compared to this monster, and he was able to withstand all my attacks, too. I was told the kingdom of nine realms was overwhelming, but this is too much. I’m faster than him, so there’s no need to fight any longer. If I can catch up to the rest, maybe, just maybe, we can defeat this monster, he thought.

“one…two…three…four…”

“All I have to do is leave the forest-”

He spat out blood. Looking down at his belly, he saw a huge furry hand sticking out.

“Lay to rest child, set yourself free from the chains of this terrible world” Thorne placed him on his shoulder and eyed the flames on his path. “A fella with an annoying gift,” he said, closing his eyes. “Aura burst!” the fire surrounding the whole forest disappeared in the blink of an eye and was replaced with a violent hailstorm. The skies raged, releasing its wrath upon the snowy plain. Thorne strode through the forest and met with his comrades.

Darius sat naked upon a heap of fallen men. Thorne threw the body to the heap, “Do you mind leaving, brother? It’s time to burn the bodies”

Bastian laughed, smoking on a huge cigarette, “Boss is thinking,”

Thorne struck a match and tossed it onto the bodies, his aura intensifying the flames into a fierce blaze.

“Adventurers are making more of a nuisance, I knew the guild wouldn’t stay quiet,” Zephyr said.

“No surprise there, words of war which were once mere rumours are now coming into the light, and there is that guy,” Ryder said, lying on the snow.

Thorne turned to Darius, who remained in the flames, “He’s been found,” he said. “In the burning town of Pyroville. We should make haste and get there”

Darius emerged from the flames, his body enveloped in steam, and his axe glowing a fiery red. “That man you brought here, Nate Bointy. An A-class adventurer with a rare gift. It’s a shame he turned down our offer,” he said. Darius then collapsed onto the snow, steam rising around him.

“A sin he committed but we should make haste, for time runs faster than a scared deer”

“Don’t worry, younger brother. There’s no need to go meet the weeping swordsman.” Darius turned to Thorne. “He’ll simply come to us”