Chapter 156: Toward the Holy Land (3)
Chapter 156: Toward the Holy Land (3)
Navirose walked towards the water’s edge, still seemingly unconcerned about covering herself. She reached out and said.
“Could you bring my clothes from over there?”
“…Sure.”
Navirose’s clothes were lying in a corner of the lake. Everything from her outerwear to her underwear were scattered on the ground, representing her carefree personality.
Ronan, feeling his conscience sting, turned away as he handed her the clothes. A mischievous voice came from behind him.
“How amusing. You’ve already enjoyed enough.”
“I told you it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t know you would be bathing there.”
“You can be happy since you’re the only man who has seen me in such a state. Come to think of it, even from the girl, Adeshan is the only one. That child is quite…”
Navirose began recounting the story of the time she and Adeshan visited a bathhouse. It was a genuinely intriguing topic, but the situation wasn’t ideal. Ronan interrupted her.
“So, what happened exactly?”
“Let’s walk for a bit first.”
Navirose, now fully clothed, stepped forward with her large sword strapped to her back. Water dripped from her uncombed hair.
The two walked slowly along the lakeside. The chirping of crickets grew louder with each rustle of the grass in the wind. She began speaking.
“What you’re thinking is correct. These are wounds I received during the battle with Zaifa earlier this year.”
“Still, no visible injuries…”
“Yeah. I lied out of pride.”
Navirose chuckled, lifting her shirt to reveal the scar. Even upon a second look, the injuries appeared severe.
“The outcome of the battle was determined by these wounds. I thought I had won enough when Zaifa’s weapon broke mid-fight. However, that damn cat had been hiding its true strength. Its claws, flying at me like ten swords, were more than I could handle.”
“Damn, isn’t that considered cheating?”
“There was nothing to be done, her skill was genuine. And I couldn’t confront her about the unfair advantage while welding the famous sword made by Master Dolon.”
Navirose began narrating the events of her duel with Zaifa. While the sword battle itself could be considered her victory, once Zaifa unsheathed her claws, the tide turned against her.
“I’ve said it before, but I really didn’t think I could win. In truth, her sword shattered because it couldn’t handle her power. I can’t claim victory in the sword battle either. These wounds affected not only my body but tore into my very soul.”
“Weren’t you healed that day?”
Ronan recalled the sparring session they had after his return from the Mental Word. After the duel, Navirose seemed genuinely cheerful, seemingly having shaken off her injuries.
“I thought so too. In fact, I felt surprisingly better after I lost to you.”
“Technically, you didn’t lose. The instructor wasn’t in a normal state.”
“A defeat is a defeat. It was a satisfying defeat. Anyway, the conclusion is, I thought I had completely recovered, but that wasn’t true. The despair I felt that day killed the serpent living in my heart.”
“There’s no way the serpent is really dead…”
“Yeah. I lost the ability to manifest my Aura.”
Ronan’s face stiffened. The words “unable to manifest my Aura” weighed heavily on his chest. Suddenly, something deep within him surged.
“Damn it, I don’t get it. Did even your core get damaged?”
“The core isn’t easily damaged by physical harm. The wounds also did not reach my heart.”
“Then why…”
Ronan trailed off, unable to comprehend. With a bitter smile and a hint of sorrow, Navirose spoke.
“Ronan, do you know how the types of Aura are classified?”
“Why bring that up all of a sudden… can you stop changing the topic?”
“It’s not about that. Just answer. Have you ever thought about the irrational criteria used to distinguish them? Some create gentle breezes, while others unleash storms that sweep entire kingdoms away. Have you ever pondered these unreasonable standards?”
Ronan furrowed his brow at the unexpected topic. He knew that the classification of Aura, the unique mana, based on certain criteria was still an unresolved issue. He shook his head, letting out a deep sigh.
“…No.”
“It’s speculative, but I believe an individual’s ego is the criterion. The consciousness or concepts that make up an individual.”
“Ego?”
“Yeah. I was born in the dense wilderness of the South. A wandering adventurer found me abandoned in a place teeming with wild beasts. I have never even seen the faces of my parents.”
Ronan’s eyes widened at the sudden revelation. Despite being somewhat close, this was the first time he heard about Navirose’s personal life. She continued.
“Being a young girl in a region engulfed in war wasn’t easy. For an orphan like me, left without anyone to turn to, it was even worse.”
“Instructor.”
“I did whatever it took to survive. All I had was my body, but fortunately I had a talent for martial arts, so I didn’t have to descend to being a prostitute. While the other orphans my age were being embraced by soldiers as they received their wages, I survived by exchanging the lives of those I killed for money.”
Navirose’s life had been harsh. When Ronan was complaining to Iril about getting tired of potato stew from his past life, Navirose was surviving by struggling on the battlefield, collecting the ears of enemies as proof to exchange for money.
“At that time, I sought strength more than anything. My mind was filled only with overpowering opponents and not underestimating them. It was around that time that I manifested Aura.”
“Back then, I was chasing a notorious wanted criminal. I had sliced his Achilles tendon beforehand, so all I had to do was follow the trail of blood. After hours of crossing the wilderness, a serpent caught my eye.”
“A serpent? The one I know?”
“Yeah. It was a giant venomous serpent. With beautiful azure scales, it held three monkeys frozen in fear before it. Instead of fleeing or facing it, it seemed the monkeys had lost all will in the face of terror. The serpent eventually began swallowing them one by one. It was more like picking up something dropped than a fight. I stood there, forgetting about the wanted criminal I was chasing, and watched the monkeys being consumed by the serpent’s jaws.”
“…Why?”
“That was precisely the ideal I was pursuing. A dominant force that overwhelmed its opponents without even having to exert any effort. Thanks to that serpent, I realized my path. At that moment of realization, an arrow flew in from outside my field of vision and struck my arm.”
Swoosh!
Suddenly, Navirose raised her hand, pretending as if an arrow had struck her arm. Startled, Ronan stepped back.
“Damn, you scared me.”
“Your expression looked so serious. Seeing this side of you, you’re quite cute.”
“Please stop it. So, what was that arrow for?”
“The guy I was chasing brought his companions. At that time, I was already a renowned bounty hunter. When I came to my senses, I realized I was already surrounded. The arrowhead was coated with poison.”
Ronan made a gesture, indicating he was listening attentively every two seconds. Seeing her sweat, it seemed telling stories wasn’t her usual skill.
With arrows raining down and the encirclement tightening, consciousness became hazy. Navirose, who had been teasing Ronan by describing the urgency of the time, suddenly stopped in place.
“And at that moment, my Aura manifested.”
“Huh.”
“It was truly a miracle. The same venomous serpent I had seen earlier emerged, casting darkness all around. After that, everything unfolded as you might expect.”
Navirose collected the heads of paralyzed criminals, describing how she harvested them like crops, a sensation akin to reaping necks as one would harvest crops, a feeling she couldn’t forget even now.
“What I wanted to say… The driving force that attracted everything ultimately stemmed from a desire to overwhelm all my enemies, to become stronger.”
“So, the reason why the Instructor can no longer control her Aura is because…”
“Yeah. It’s because that determination was broken when I suffered consecutive defeats against Zaifa. At least, that’s what I think.”
Navirose let out a bitter smile once again. As she gently touched her scar, she spoke in a hushed tone.
“Although the arrow has been removed, the hole remains.”
Ronan couldn’t say anything. Even if he wanted to suggest a solution, he couldn’t think of one.
It was a complex type of trauma, much more challenging than openly dealing with depression. In such cases, overcoming it somehow was the only solution.
“It’s fascinating. When I’m with you, I end up saying all kinds of things.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. Do you want this?”
Ronan glanced at the cigarette pipe in his pocket. Navirose chuckled.
“It seems like you seem to have forgotten your role as a student. Why do you continue to think it’s a good thing?”
“So, you don’t want it?”
“Well, anyway…”
Without saying a word, Navirose took the pipe and put it to her lips. Ronan, with a smooth motion, lit it for her with a match.
“Haaaa….”
She inhaled deeply and let out a white puff while gazing at the lake. The white smoke scattered over the two moons like clouds. It was perfect, even on second glance. Ronan, who had been observing her profile, chuckled.
“You started smoking at a young age, right? Probably since the time on the battlefield.”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I did too.”
Navirose raised an eyebrow. The question about when he had been to a battlefield followed, but Ronan responded with laughter. He was admiring the lake with his hands clasped behind his head.
“By the way, now that I think about it, there’s something I’m curious about.”
“What is it?”
“The swordsmanship you used during our sparring. Who did you learn it from?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Contextually, it seemed she was talking about the Savior’s swordsmanship. He asked back, scratching his head.
“Uh… why do you ask?”
“It was too similar to the swordsmanship of the person who handed me my first defeat.”
“First defeat? It wasn’t Zaifa?”
“Before that, there was another. Someone who greatly influenced the establishment of my swordsmanship. Even Zaifa would be reduced to nothing more than a mere cat in front of that person’s swordsmanship.”
Ronan’s eyes widened. A swordsman capable of reducing Zaifa to a mere cat. The only people he knew with such skill were the Savior and the traitor bastard.
“Did that person have white hair, by any chance?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“And the face? Do you remember the face? The color of the eyes, anything.”
“It’s been a long time, so I don’t remember the details well. Ah, I don’t know if I mentioned this before…”
Navirose trailed off. Turning her body, she began to gently stroke Ronan’s cheek.
“Somehow, you gave a similar feeling as that person. I’ve been thinking that since the time you turned Kardan into a bald man for Adeshan. It’s been almost three years already.”
“Similar feeling ? What exactly do you mean?”
“Should I call it an exuding energy? It can’t be described in words…”
Navirose closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Unable to articulate where the resemblance lay, it was frustrating not to be able to express herself.
Meanwhile, her palms were touching Ronan’s cheek. She felt strange thinking that those hands had been scrubbing and washing her body just a moment ago.
Just as Ronan was about to say something. A loud scream rang out from somewhere in the distance.
“Aaargh! Save me! Someone help!”
“What the hell.”
Ronan turned his head in the direction of the sound. The birds that had just awakened flew away in unison. Navirose, with an indifferent tone, spoke.
“Probably rookie hunters.”
“Rookie hunters?”
“Yeah. If they’ve come this far, it’s about time for them to show up. They’re the ones who rob and kill rookie swordsmen who come here hoping to become the owner of the Holy Sword.”