WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Ilafy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Pulled Out Excalibur

Chapter 158

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Clown or Knight? (1)

‘Who am I? Who was I? I can’t remember my name. In truth, it didn’t happen suddenly. I already forgot it decades ago, so it’s not particularly surprising.’

‘But still… it’s not just my name that I can't remember now. I can’t recall where I belonged, what weapon I wielded, what beliefs I held, how I acted—in short, how I lived my life.’

‘Everything is hazy. Like a fog settled over it.’ 

Helmet Knight’s eyes turned hollow.

His self was fading. The inside of the helmet itched, and a creaking sound came from the body hidden beneath the armor. 

Helmet Knight desperately tried to clear the fog in his mind. No matter how much he tried to push it away, the fog kept rolling in, and within it, he found a single helmet lying there.

Thud.

Helmet Knight grabbed his helmet, the Horned Helm. It was proof that he was the leader of the Golden Horn Knights. 

‘Ah, yes. I remember. I remember now.’ 

He groaned as he clutched the helmet with both hands. “Ah…”

As the memories returned, he realized the situation he had been in. It was easy to guess what would have happened if he hadn’t remembered. Too easy. 

The knight shuddered as he thought of the end that would’ve met him if he had taken even one wrong step.

He was afraid.

All those grand titles—Hero of the Empire, Transcendent, Constellation, Sword Master—were useless. What remained was just a single human. A pitiful, wretched human.

That single human was trembling in fear. He gripped his helmet tightly, making it creak under the pressure of his fingers.

“Snap out of it.”

Creak.

The knight’s body shook. Someone had grabbed him by the collar and shaken him. 

Helmet Knight raised his head and looked ahead. There, a shining star awaited him. A truly tempting star—a star that could sustain his life.

‘Star. Starlight. Life.’ As if entranced, he reached out toward the star, but then he choked on his breath. He grabbed the military flag draped over his body. 

“Get a grip. How far do you plan to fall?”

“I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“…”

“Why are you looking at me like that? I remember now. I remember. At this age, it’s normal for memories to get a bit hazy. It’s nothing.” He tried to brush it off with a joke, but Najin’s expression didn’t change. 

Najin clenched his teeth. 

Helmet Knight thought to himself, ‘He’s sharp, so he must have noticed already. He’s feigning ignorance. Yes, let’s stop making excuses.’

Letting out a long sigh, he spoke. “Is today the 27th day?”

“…Yes.”

“We promised 30 days, but I never thought you’d learn everything so quickly. Now, there’s only one technique left to teach. How about it? Are you starting to get the hang of it?”

“…I’ll try.”

“Good. I’ll be watching.”

Najin swung his sword and performed the swordsmanship techniques Helmet Knight had taught him one by one. His posture was perfect, and the trajectory of his sword was beautiful. 

Even to the eyes of the Sword Master, Najin’s movements were worthy of a passing grade.

But there was one—just one—technique that couldn’t be replicated. The sword wavered, and so did his posture. Naturally, a slash performed with a shaky blade was sloppy.

Najin himself knew as much. His expression stiffened with guilt as he swung his sword. 

In Helmet Knight’s opinion, Najin had no reason to feel guilty. It wasn’t the boy’s fault.

The boy was an excellent student. He learned quickly and understood everything with ease. He was the kind of squire that many knights would covet, the kind who could grasp ten things after being taught just one.

The fact that such an outstanding student couldn’t even grasp the basics of a single technique after over a month… wasn’t the student’s fault but the teacher’s. Helmet Knight knew this.

“…” He let out a bitter laugh. Of course, it was difficult to learn. It was a Sword Master’s technique, infused with the essence of his life. He could have used those as excuses, but he didn’t want to.

“Stop.” Helmet Knight stopped Najin’s sword. “Stop. There’s no point in continuing like this.”

“No, if I just keep trying…”

“Don’t rush. This isn’t something you can learn by just trying. It’s only natural that you can’t follow it.” Helmet Knight looked up at the starry sky. “How can you swing a sword that even I can’t wield? I was teaching you something I couldn’t do myself. The example itself was flawed, so how could you possibly learn?”

Helmet Knight let out a long sigh. “I can’t remember how I performed that technique. How I drew out the Sword Aura. All I remember are the sensations. I can’t visualize the exact form, so I’m just relying on those sensations to explain it to you.”

“It’s only natural that you can’t imitate it. If the answer sheet is wrong, what’s the point of copying the wrong answers?”

Grip.

Najin clenched his sword.

Helmet Knight lowered his head. Looking at his rusted armor, he muttered, “Memory. Memory.”

The technique that was like his very symbol; had brought him glorious victories and made him a Sword Master.

Recalling that technique wasn’t easy. It was his symbol, essentially himself. It was a memory he had lost the moment he lost himself and was stripped of his transcendence.

Recalling it again… was like ascending to become a Transcendent once more.

He was a human who had even forgotten his own name—a lost soul wandering in a hazy fog who could no longer trust himself—how could he ascend?

‘It’s impossible.’ Helmet Knight looked at Najin. ‘But even so…’

In the days when he was called a hero, he had achieved the impossible many times. As he traced back his glorious past, Helmet Knight’s gaze turned to a distant place.

“Ah, yes. That place exists,” he muttered. “If I go there, maybe it’ll come back to me. Yes, perhaps there…”

A Fallen Star struggled to shine one last time.

‘The Outland resembles the Underground City of Artman,’ Najin suddenly thought.

Of course, if you analyzed it piece by piece, that thought might be wrong. 

The Outland wasn't a city where insignificant sinners fell but a place where powerful warriors and heroes gathered. Comparing the two might be an insult to the heroes.

Even so, Najin felt that the Outland and the Underground City were similar. The atmosphere and nature of the two places were alike.

The Outland was a place where those pushed out of the world accumulated and settled. A sort of landfill. They were similar in that both were filled with people who had their dreams stolen and were slowly dying under the weight of reality.

“…” Was that why the image of Ivan came to mind when he looked at Helmet Knight’s back? “Where are we going?”

“To the place where I achieved a glorious victory,” Helmet Knight answered. He pointed somewhere and walked on aimlessly. 

Najin followed silently behind him.

“I think I might remember if I go there. There should be traces of where I swung my sword, so maybe… something will come back to me?”

“Is it far from here?”

“Not too far. We should arrive in a day or two.” Helmet Knight’s voice was light as he spoke. As the days passed, his voice had grown lighter. His footsteps were the same. “You know, Najin… When I said I pierced the Carnival King’s heart, it wasn’t just a metaphor. I really pierced her heart and made her star fall.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I achieved such a feat against a constellation with ten stars. Guess how many stars I made fall at the time.”

“Hmm… Two or three?”

“I wouldn’t have boasted if it was just that.” Helmet Knight laughed heartily and spread his hand wide. “Five. I made five stars fall.”

Even Najin was surprised by that.

“Losing five out of ten stars means losing half. Isn’t that enough to become a Forgotten One?”

“That’s right. Normally, losing more than half of your stars at once would make you a Forgotten One, but the Carnival King’s stars are a bit special, so that didn’t happen.”

“Huh?”

“The Carnival King wears masks and plays many roles. It’s like multiple personalities. When she loses a star, she discards the personality corresponding to that star. It’s like a lizard cutting off its tail.”

“What the…?”

“The moment I made five stars fall, five new stars tried to rise. The Carnival King has dozens, even hundreds of masks. It’s just that she can only handle ten at a time. Do you know what those masks are?” 

Helmet Knight didn’t wait for an answer. He answered his own question. “They’re the stars of the constellations she has devoured.”

“She dyes those stars in her own color and uses them as if they were hers. She can only handle ten at a time, but she has collected over a hundred stars. Some of those stars might even be mine.”

“Then how on earth… do you fight her?”

“Right? It seems impossible, doesn’t it?” Helmet Knight shrugged. “You kill her over and over until she dies. That’s the simplest method, but it’s not easy. To do that, you’d need to bring the stars of the Round Table. The other method is… to deny the very existence of the Carnival King.”

“Deny?”

“Yeah. Ultimately, the one controlling the stars is the Carnival King. You cut down the stage she’s set, deny the concept of her carnival, and pierce the true self hidden behind the masks. I tried it once, and it did some meaningful damage.”

He touched the sword at his waist. “When she lost a star to me, the Carnival King screamed, unlike when her other masks were destroyed. She glared at me while bleeding and quickly pulled out a new mask, but I clearly saw the crack in her soul. The constellation connecting the five newly-risen stars was also unstable.”

“Then you really…”

“Yes. If I hadn’t lost all my stars there, I could have finished her off.”

Thud. Najin stopped walking.

Helmet Knight smiled bitterly, as if he had misspoken. “Anyway, the place we’re going to now is where I made five of the Carnival King’s stars fall.” He added, “It’s also the last place I performed that swordsmanship technique.”

Originally, it was the Carnival King’s territory, but Helmet Knight and the Golden Horn Knights had managed to reclaim it.

“It’s also where the Golden Horn Knights are buried. I should bury Crunbelle’s horn there too. It wouldn’t be right to leave him out, would it? It took a while, but I should bury him with them now. And…” Helmet Knight trailed off.

Najin understood what he was trying to say.

‘You want to be buried there too. You want that place to be your final destination.’

He didn’t point it out. He had guessed as much from the moment Helmet Knight set the 30-day time limit, or perhaps even earlier.

Knowing that didn’t make his steps any lighter. 

As Helmet Knight’s steps grew lighter, Najin’s steps grew heavier. It was as if the weight had shifted.

Najin walked while thinking of the past.

Ivan. Ivan’s final moments kept flashing before Najin’s eyes. The sound of his voice echoed in his ears, him shouting, “Go on!” as he showed his back.

Those who sense their impending end often exhibit certain characteristics. 

Having worked as a collector and executioner in the Underground City for a long time, Najin was well aware of those characteristics.

They started to tidy up their surroundings and began to pass on or dispose of their possessions. Some tried to avoid or deny the situation, resorting to desperate measures… but when he blocked all of those attempts, they often resigned themselves and burst into laughter.

A truly light laughter.

He had seen and heard that laughter many times. That’s why he could tell that Helmet Knight’s laughter resembled theirs. It was a uniquely detached laughter of someone trying to tidy up their life.

Helmet Knight hadn’t completely lightened up yet. He still had regrets. 

‘Is it because I haven’t fully mastered the swordsmanship technique yet? No, it doesn’t seem to be just that.’ 

Najin couldn’t pinpoint exactly what those regrets were, but he could guess that those regrets would be resolved the moment they reached their destination. That thought made his steps heavier.

‘I want to stop him. I want him to not do it.’

The journey with Helmet Knight had been enjoyable, and during that time, Najin had felt as if he were with Ivan—a mentor, a senior, and a friend who understood him well.

When talking with Helmet Knight, Najin naturally smiled and chatted lightly, without any weight, just like in the past when he had chatted freely with Ivan. He couldn’t deny that those times had been enjoyable and precious.

He clenched his fist. Looking at his mentor preparing for his end, he felt a complex mix of emotions, but he couldn’t stop Helmet Knight. 

Helmet Knight wanted to be a knight. Preparing for his end as a knight, Najin couldn’t stop him. It would go against his own beliefs.

Reason and emotion were pulling him in different directions.

His beliefs told him this was the right thing, but his emotions wished that the knight wouldn’t do it. He wanted him to live a little longer.

“You look like you’re deep in thought.” Helmet Knight smiled. It was still a light smile, one that seemed like it could scatter at any moment. “Don’t pity me. Don’t sympathize with me. I don’t want my final moments to be wrapped in such cheap emotions.”

“I understand.”

“Yes, you’re smart, so you’d understand. Even if you understand, it’s not something you can control, is it?”

“That’s just how life is. It’s easy to judge what’s the right thing to do, but you can’t always choose the right answer.”

He continued with, “A life where you can live romantically and die beautifully is wonderful, but it’s hard for reality to be beautiful. It’s dirty, sticky, nothing goes as planned, and even if you try to stay beautiful, life slaps mud on you from all sides.”

Finally, he said, “Still, because of that, isn’t the flower that blooms at the end all the more beautiful?”

He wanted his end to be beautiful. Like so many heroes before him, like the endings of countless heroic tales, he wanted his final moments to have meaning.

Heh heh.

Heh heh heh, hahaha, huff, hic! Ahahahahaha!

A beautiful life in reality is impossible. That’s just how the world was. The world wasn’t a work of fiction, and heroic tales were even less so. Nothing went according to plan, and far more people met a miserable and insignificant end than a beautiful one.

Laughter echoed from somewhere and grew louder.

Crazed laughter, mocking laughter, bitter laughter, roaring laughter… all kinds of laughter echoed in a symphony that reverberated across the barren wasteland.

“Applause!” The sound of applause erupted, loud enough to shake the ground, echoing along with cheers.

In the midst of those cheers stood someone dressed in armor that made him look like a ridiculous clown. Red, blue, yellow, green—garish colors adorned his armor as he mounted a horse.

No, it wasn’t a horse. It wasn’t a horse at all. It was a shabby, pitiful, and grotesque beast resembling a donkey. Mounted on the beast, he raised a spear.

“Give applause, cheers, adoration, and even greater…” The one-eyed knight, a human stripped of all emotions except laughter, the clown’s only way of expression. “…mockery.”

A constellation with seven stars, the star that mocks knights, the Star of Scorn…

The Carnival Knight, Quixote, charged forward.