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Chapter 11: Despair versus the Flower Garden (Part 1)
The first to meet a tragic end was Yururu’s mother. She was brutally murdered by Gareth, Yururu’s brother and the third son of the Garestia family. In a horrific act, her body was dismembered, and at first, Yururu couldn’t comprehend that it was her own mother. When the realization finally struck her, she was overwhelmed by a wave of nausea and inconsolable sorrow.
Following the murder of her mother, Gareth was stripped of his title as a sixth-rank holy knight and became a fugitive, wanted for his heinous crime.
Subsequently, Yururu’s second brother, Agravain, took the lives of twelve holy knights. As a fifth-rank holy knight, he too lost his title and descended into the realm of criminality.
And then came Yururu’s eldest brother, Gawain. Originally a third-rank holy knight, he committed the unfathomable act of killing their own father. Stripped of his title, he too became a criminal.
It was a sudden and devastating turn of events. There had been no warning signs, and Yururu’s entire world shattered in an instant. Her brothers, once kind and loving, had committed atrocious deeds. But the greatest shock of all was Gawain, her eldest brother.
He had always been gentle, and their family had lived a happy life. Gawain had aspired to become a noble holy knight, just like their parents. Yururu lost everything and found herself ostracized by those around her.
The twelve holy knights who fell victim to Agravain’s brutal acts were said to have been killed using the Namikaze technique. Furthermore, all three brothers, including Agravain, had learned this technique from their father, a member of the Garestia family. Among the holy knights, it was widely known that they employed this particular technique.
Consequently, their swordsmanship and character evaluation naturally declined among their peers. Rumors began to circulate, spreading fear, hatred, and disgust.
“A holy knight who wields the sword of a killer.”
Since the relatives of the twelve slain holy knights were also members of the Round Table Knights, it was only natural that their swordsmanship would be viewed unfavorably by their peers.
Although the incident had occurred many years ago and was gradually fading from memory, there were still many who harbored grudges. Some had not forgotten the fear they experienced.
Even now, blame was placed upon the relatives of the victims. Particularly within the Knights of the Round Table, strong rumors circulated, blaming the three high-ranking holy knights for causing a major catastrophe. In such an environment, Yururu knew all too well how she, as a holy knight, would be perceived.
Yet, she was determined to clear her family’ name. They may not have been nobles, and their family had already fallen from grace. But to Yururu, her kind-hearted parents were a source of pride. So she continued to carry their family name, declaring it proudly, no matter how much denial she faced.
However, that path was fraught with difficulty and treachery. Yururu believed that she needed to help many people and elevate her popularity and influence as a holy knight. She thought that by achieving more accomplishments and honors than her brothers through her swordsmanship, she could overwrite the rumors surrounding her. Yet, her rank remained stagnant, and the rumors persisted.
It was because of her brothers’ involvement in a significant incident with high-ranking holy knights, especially Agravain, who had killed twelve holy knights during a specific mission. Agravain held a high rank and was assigned to a crucial formation. The higher the rank, the greater the influence and importance of the position. An investigation suggested that Agravain had orchestrated the formation of holy knights he intended to kill for his mission. This led some holy knights to believe that it would be dangerous for the sister of such a man to advance in rank.
The collapse of honor had immeasurable repercussions. As her brothers were initially exceptional holy knights, any misstep on her part could cause anxiety among the people. Furthermore, it was pointed out that she had the flaw of lacking any attributes, rendering her swordsmanship alone meaningless. Many holy knights felt that the active involvement of the Garestia family’s children as holy knights would become a destabilizing factor.
Nonetheless, she persisted in her endeavors. As a holy knight, she took her missions seriously and diligently followed in her brothers’ footsteps to apprehend them. She sacrificed her holidays to gather information and poured her efforts into her work. She hoped that by achieving significant accomplishments, she could bring about a change. She had made a promise with her father and was determined to clear his name. For that purpose…
With this thought in mind, after six years of dedicated service, a day finally arrived.
The storm of unfavorable rumors seemed never-ending, casting a shadow of doubt. However, a helping hand reached out to the diligent woman. Marumaru, a fifth-rank holy knight, recognized her exceptional sword skills. As a holy knight with influence, he recommended her as a swordsmanship teacher. He also persuaded a few of her classmates who knew her well to support her. Though their numbers were few, those who valued her made a difference. As a result, she had the opportunity to teach swordsmanship to the temporary members of the special forces once.
This fortunate occurrence felt like a miracle hanging by a thin thread. Yururu-Garestia seized the chance to instruct the special forces in swordsmanship. Many distinguished holy knights who were raised in this unit achieved great feats. Yururu-Garestia realized that through this, something that had remained unchanged for many years could finally shift.
Her determination remained unwavering. She became the teacher of Arthur, True, Bowlan, and Fei. Although she had initially hesitated to teach the Namikaze technique style, which had drawn criticism, she found other valuable lessons to impart, such as tactics, power plays, and strategies for dealing with various weapons.
She clung to hope, vowing to accomplish her mission. It was her sole motivation, but there was one trainee knight who empathized with her.
That trainee was Fei. Though he possessed only a sword and lacked elementals attributes, he struggled relentlessly. Their meeting was something she cherished…
Yururu walked through the deserted royal capital after completing her night sword training with her student, Fei. She disliked the dormitory where the remaining knights stayed, so she rented a room to live in. On her way home, she skipped a little, wearing a contented smile.
During their intensive training together, Fei had just learned “Namikaze.” Initially, Yururu had not intended to teach the Namikaze Seinryu style, but Fei pleaded with her, and she reluctantly agreed. Their hard work had finally paid off.
She felt joy in passing down the swordsmanship her father had taught her for the first time to someone else.
(If I guide him as a teacher, ensuring he doesn’t endanger himself… even if Fei-kun may find himself in a perilous position!)
Unbeknownst to her, Yururu had become deeply attached to Fei. Despite his stern face, fierce eyes, and seemingly emotionless demeanor like a machine, Yururu couldn’t help but develop a fondness for someone who worked hard every day and trained diligently alongside her. Amidst the distance maintained by many others, he was the only one who sought her guidance, and she found herself growing more affectionate towards him. Lost in thoughts of Fei and wondering if they would train together again the next day, she continued her walk until she reached her home. However, she sensed an unusual presence. Someone was nearby.
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“…Who are you?” she asked in a serious tone, reaching for the iron sword she always kept by her side. Yet, the response she received was different from her own weighty voice.
“Sorry for startling you. My apologies,” came a light, almost playful voice in contrast to Yururu’s seriousness. The man standing before her wore a black robe, concealing his face. He seemed suspicious, causing Yururu to heighten her caution and prepare to draw her sword.
“Who are you?” she repeated, firmly.
“Well, let’s see. You can call me Nanashi, as I cannot reveal my true name.”
“Do you have any business with me?”
“Oh, well, you see, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. I thought I might offer you some assistance. It must be tough bearing the burden of your brothers’ infamous reputation.”
“You needn’t worry about me.”
“Oh, but don’t say that.”
The robed man reached into his pocket and produced an item.
“I’ll give this to you. With it, you can exact revenge while being guided by the curse and your own blood, just like your brother.”
He handed Yururu a black dagger, and suddenly, her memory abruptly faded. She found herself walking back to her lodgings as if controlled by unseen strings. Observing this, the man in the black robe chuckled.
“I came to the royal capital to pass the time, and imagine my luck in discovering that all siblings were here… It’s fate. Having all four of you as subjects for my experiments is quite marvelous. What a splendid family.”
With those words, he murmured and vanished. There was no one left, nothing but the cold wind blowing through the empty space.
———————————————-
Gusha.
A tearing sound echoed through the air, resembling the splashing of water. Blood pooled on the desk, forming a crimson puddle. Yururu repeatedly thrust a short sword into her own hand, over and over again.
Her once pristine white hand gradually transformed into a vivid shade of red. With each piercing stab of the short sword, her resentment and dissatisfaction grew larger.
(What does it matter if I have no attribute? So what if my three brothers are murderers?)
Yururu endured the ridicule she faced due to her lack of attribute. The painful memories of being talked about behind her back resurfaced, fueling her hatred. She longed to retaliate but swallowed the bitter memories, allowing her resentment to swell.
Frantically, she plunged the short sword into her hand, finding a slight relief in the pain.
(What have I done to deserve this? They bestowed me with such a peculiar nickname!)
Again and again, she thrust the sword, consumed by anger towards those who unjustly labeled her and spewed malice.
(Even that girl, my student, dares to be so insolent.)
The image of Bowlan, the young girl who had challenged her, flashed through her mind. Yururu knew deep down that her anger was not truly directed at Bowlan, but gradually, her ability to distinguish between good and bad waned, and Bowlan became a target for her resentment.
The urge grew stronger with each passing moment. She yearned to unleash her resentment, anger, and frustration upon someone, anyone.
A dark, black emotion surged within her. Faintly, her twisted face was reflected in the pool of blood that overflowed from her repeatedly stabbed hand. She had long surpassed the point of repair.
(Ahh, ahhhhhh!! I can’t control this urge!! I need to vent this urge on someone!!!)
———————————————-
“Breaking news: I, the protagonist, have mastered the “Nami Kaze” technique!
Breaking news: I, the protagonist, have mastered the “Nami Kaze” technique!
Breaking news: I, the protagonist, have mastered the “Nami Kaze” technique!
Finally, I too have acquired a finishing move. While True and Bowlan showcase their magical prowess with “Granting Magic” and “Bombardment Magic” in Professor Durga’s class, I’m left practicing star power manipulation beside them, devoid of any attribute. I used to feel inferior, but now, I find it even more exhilarating.
Arthur, in particular, excels at both swordsmanship and magic. She outshines even the protagonist!
But, I must remain calm.
Seeing Arthur made me realize my lack of magical aptitude and proficiency in Star Power Operation. I am undoubtedly the worst.
Professor Durga never fails to remind me of that fact. I’m well aware of my shortcomings.
Yet, being the worst, being at the bottom, means the only way to go is up, right? If you’re already at rock bottom, there’s nowhere else to descend, correct? You can only ascend.
That’s why I don’t mind. In fact, I believe climbing up from the bottom is the most impressive feat. Embracing my position at the bottom feels empowering. A true protagonist should possess a resilient spirit, and being a hard worker only adds to the charm.
After all this time, I have finally learned my first finishing move.
Excitement courses through me. A finishing move! I had always yearned to acquire such a technique. A true protagonist must have a finishing move! Unfortunately, there’s no one to practice with, and I learned it during the night… I long to employ this finishing move… I truly do… Nami Kaze.
…Haa, haa… I can’t contain this urge. I want to test the power of Nami Kaze on someone and proudly proclaim, “Look at me!” I yearn to strike someone with the force of the Nami Kaze technique!!!
As expected, when the protagonist learns a new move, there should be an opportunity to demonstrate it. I am the protagonist, so I anticipate an event where I can showcase my newfound ability.
I struggle to suppress the overwhelming desire to unleash Nami Kaze, to maintain composure. But deep down, the urge persists, refusing to be quelled!
–I feel myself slipping into madness, consumed by the desire to flaunt my new technique.
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They’re both slipping into madness for very different reasons.