WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Ilafy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Pulled Out Excalibur

Chapter 162

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The Knight Who Removed His Helmet (2)

Aldaran Vasaglia.

If you looked through the Empire’s history books, you could find that name.No one knew who Aldaran actually was, to be so prominently recorded. What great deed had he done for there to be no surviving records of him?

Imperial chroniclers would tilt their heads in puzzlement over that gap. He certainly seemed to have been an important figure… perhaps the records were lost during the Dawn War? Maybe he was a traitor, and his records were erased?

Many documents were burned during the Dawn War. With no way to confirm the facts, people could only speculate.

Various theories circulated. One chronicler claimed, “Aldaran Vasaglia must be a traitor. It’s obvious, seeing that all records of him were destroyed.” The next day, that chronicler was found in his own home with his head severed.

The same fate befell other chroniclers who made similar remarks—they were discovered with their fingers cut off or their tongues torn out. 

Outraged by such horrific acts, the Empire intervened.

Who would dare threaten an Imperial chronicler? The Imperial Family even stepped in to investigate. Before long, the inquiry was quietly dropped—not because they failed to find the culprit, but because the culprit was too colossal a figure to be punished.

The hero of the Dawn War, Gerd, was the culprit. 

Summoned by the Emperor to explain himself, Gerd gave a brief reply to the Emperor’s question. “I have not forgotten.”

“What do you mean?”

“The great hero of the Empire… my teacher, and the one who was the Empire’s First Sword…” Gerd showed his own blade. “The Triumph Sword.”

Decades passed. On the day Gerd himself rose to the seat of Empire’s First Sword, his first act was to add a few lines beneath Aldaran Vasaglia’s name…

[The former Empire’s First Sword.]

[Teacher of the current First Sword, Sir Gerd.]

[Founder of the Triumph Sword, the prototype for today’s Imperial Swordsmanship.]

He re-engraved his master’s name in the Empire’s records, determined not to forget the promise he had shared.

Even if the records were distorted or erased, Gerd would keep correcting the history books.

Again, and again, and again…

The Empire’s First Sword, Aldaran Vasaglia…

Najin had heard that name before. It would be more surprising if he hadn’t. Aldaran Vasaglia was the master of Gerd—Sword Master of the Empire—and the founder of the Triumph Sword Gerd used.

‘…Why?’ When he spoke his name, Najin felt a strange sense of confusion. ‘Why didn’t I realize it sooner?’

There were plenty of clues. Helmet Knight had hinted at some connection to Gerd, and the sword technique he taught Najin resembled the Empire’s style. 

Only then did Najin grasp why the Knight’s swordplay felt so familiar—it was Gerd’s swordsmanship.

He felt baffled by his own failure to connect Helmet Knight to the name Aldaran Vasaglia.

The moment Najin turned that fact over in his mind…

“Aldaran Vasaglia is dead.” Out of nowhere, a line appeared in his thoughts. “He was a traitor of the Dawn War.”  

“Records were lost during the Dawn War.”  

“Aldaran Vasaglia went missing.”

One after another…

“He became a Fallen Star and was hunted down.”  

“Aldaran Vasaglia is a Forgotten One.”  

“No one knows what happened to him.”  

“Aldaran Vasaglia was the name of a soldier who died in the Dawn War.”

Dozens of lines of contradictory information Najin had never heard flooded in, twisting the truth. He couldn’t pick out which were lies and which were real.

“The man before you is not Aldaran Vasaglia.”

Frowning, Najin pressed his fingers to his temples. He felt disoriented, but the confusion didn’t last.

–Well, well…?

Merlin’s voice echoed by his ear. With a dismissive wave of her hand, as if swatting away a bug, she scattered the false information from Najin’s mind in an instant.

–Who do you think you’re messing with? He’s mine.

She wound an arm around Najin’s neck and whispered into his ear.

–Focus. This is something you need to finish with your master. I may not be a knight, but I’m King Arthur’s companion. I know that an honorable duel mustn’t be disturbed by meddling.

She smiled.

–Go on and become a knight.

‘Thank you, Merlin.’

Najin took a step forward. His mind was clear. The heat that had swarmed his thoughts vanished, leaving his field of vision wide open. 

With unclouded eyes, he looked to his master. 

Aldaran, likewise, gazed back at him.

Their eyes met for the first time.

The aura in Aldaran’s uncovered stare was chilling, but not because he looked monstrous. It was the uniquely oppressive might of a Sword Master. 

Aside from Merlin, it surpassed anything Najin had ever felt. Not even Yuel, Gerd, or Karan could project such an overwhelming presence. 

Najin’s body trembled reflexively, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.

He had guessed Aldaran would be formidable, but it was beyond all reckoning.

He stood against the Empire’s hero, the former Empire’s First Sword, the Sword Master who dropped half the stars of the Carnival King. One who had possessed eight stars, standing beyond any other Sword Master on the continent.

Logically, he could never win. If it were a fight to the death, he would be slain in a single second.

That wasn’t what it was, though.

It was an honorable duel, and a sparring match between master and disciple. Najin gave a swordsman’s salute; Aldaran acknowledged it and lowered his sword.

Crunch.

With his free hand, Aldaran grabbed and crushed his own heart. 

Najin’s eyes shot wide open. He understood what that meant.

A swordsman’s heart was where mana and starlight gather. Destroying it was tantamount to declaring that he would not use mana or star power. 

Aldaran’s silent statement was that he would not use Sword Aura and would face him only with the sword.

In his hazy consciousness, where he could lose his reason at any moment, he couldn’t perfectly control his mana. One slip, and a sloppy, frenzied Sword Aura could run wild. Aldaran wouldn’t allow that.

A knight—or a swordsman—must perfectly restrain and control everything. If he could not control it, then he would choose not to use it. One blade that answered only to his will was enough.

A wielded a sword, not Sword Aura; Aldaran chose to remain a swordsman.

It was both an act of consideration for his disciple and proof of his own confidence.

‘I’m still a Sword Master, even without Sword Aura, kid.’

Aldaran’s face showed no emotion.

‘Come, give me all you have.’

He didn’t say a word, yet Najin sensed what he meant.

‘Defeat me.’

Najin felt certain it was no mere fantasy. The Aldaran he knew was that sort of man.

Gripping his sword, he went forward, challenging his master, the massive wall that towered before him.

Sword Masters are humans who have reached transcendence. With a single swing, they can slash apart targets tens or hundreds of meters away. One stroke can control an entire battlefield, bending the limits of common sense. 

They are walking calamities, each the equivalent of a national strategic weapon.

All of that isn’t accomplished by a mere sword alone. Their mastery of Imagery goes beyond simply imbuing the blade, it envelops the surroundings in their will through Sword Aura.

Thus, Sword Aura is inseparable from how a swordsman's realm is measured.

So then… could someone who does not use Sword Aura still be called a Sword Master? Doesn’t even a Sword Seeker show progress through stages of Sprouting, Blossoming, and Full Bloom, guided by their Sword Aura? 

If a swordsman can’t summon aura at all, wouldn’t they lose even to a Sword Seeker?

Najin had heard of such debates in the Order of the Sword. Karan, the Sword Saint who led the Order, once told him about it, laughing as he recounted the outcome.

“They were making a fuss about something so trivial, so I beat them all to a pulp without using Sword Aura. An adult doesn’t lose to a child just because he can’t use a bit of hand-to-hand combat, right? Same idea here. If you stop being a Sword Master without aura, you never were a Sword Master to begin with.”

At the time, Najin hadn’t thought much about it. Having faced a single strike of Aldaran’s sword, devoid of aura, he had no choice but to grasp the meaning.

KAAAAANG!

Even without Sword Aura, the blade Aldaran swung traveled dozens of meters to tear up the earth. 

When Najin parried that blow, he almost lost his sword. Sliding backward, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief.

Naturally, that stern master had no intention of going easy on him. As if declaring that foregoing aura was already enough of a handicap, Aldaran pressed onward. 

Indeed, that was how he had taught Najin—by pushing him brutally and precariously to the brink so he would learn through desperation. 

That time was no different.

Najin felt no complaints. Instead, he smiled. Calming his stance, he let out a long breath. Even before drawing it back in, he shot forward, sword slashing, Sword Aura surging from his blade.

Aldaran wasn’t using aura, but Najin was. He couldn’t afford to show off by refusing to use it. He’d be crushed in a few exchanges if he did. Blocking each blow that spanned the distance between them, he closed in.

Boom!

Following Aldaran’s own teaching, he put his full weight into each step and swung his sword, not his aura. Even so, the technique he unleashed was the Triumph Sword Aldaran had taught him.

Skaaaak!

His upward slash split Aldaran’s attack in two. The bisected shockwave smashed the ground on either side of him, and Najin drove forward. Now he also understood the name of his swordsmanship and its gravity.

It was a hero’s swordsmanship that always triumphed, standing as a symbol of victory.

Because those who followed him watched, Aldaran had to win every battle. He needed to be their symbol. Thus, every blow he landed was laden with that responsibility.

Najin imitated that. Not for those behind him, but for the master standing before him, watching over him.

‘I haven’t yet learned the ultimate form, but I have learned your swordsmanship. I know how you wield it. After all, you’ve shown me already.’

Crash!

He parried another slash, Aldaran stomped the earth and swung again. 

Najin’s blade rang—KAAAAANG!—as it met the oncoming strike from a distance. In that same instant, Aldaran had already arrived in front of him.

Seeing Aldaran raise his sword high, Najin’s eyes went wide. He urgently raised his own sword in defense. The moment blades collided, the impact nearly drove him to his knees. His knee buckled, and the earth beneath him caved in.

Even though his aura absorbed most of the blow, it was still this fierce—the difference in weight. The difference in realm.

Of course, Aldaran didn’t end it with one strike.

He continued swinging. He was a Sword Master in motion. Each time his blade advanced by a fraction, the air around the tip sliced like a razor. He had no Sword Aura, but the fierce storm coiling around his blade served the same function.

It was nearly absurd to watch. With no magic or other means, he was forming something akin to Sword Aura through pure physical force.

BOOOM!

Knocked back, Najin slammed into a boulder and finally stopped, but Aldaran didn’t. He pursued immediately, swinging again. 

Najin ducked just in time as the blade swept overhead, cutting the massive rock behind him clean in half.

Still, Aldaran’s blade didn’t slow. He’d swung from left to right, but ignoring any momentum, he whipped it back to the left. The motion was seamless, almost like a single continuous stroke. 

Najin tried to fit his own sword into the path, but it wasn’t a full stop. With a ripping sound, his body was flung aside.

Even after blocking with his sword, the force still hurled him away. He rolled across the ground but managed to stand. He’d regained some distance, yet that was hardly an advantage. If anything, it meant Aldaran had room to use a more powerful technique.

Aldaran calmly adjusted his grip and assumed a stance. 

The moment Najin recognized it, his eyes widened. It was the stance for the Battle Ram.

‘Why is he taking that stance with a sword? The Battle Ram was meant for a lance, wasn’t it?’

As if to answer that question, Aldaran twisted his blade. The winds swirling around the tip rushed along the blade’s length, spinning like a storm.

“This is insane.” Najin couldn’t hold back his words. He poured out his Sword Aura to the limit and swung with all his might. 

At the same time, Aldaran thrust his blade toward Najin and used Battle Ram.

The earth cracked; boulders shredded. The force of it ravaged the ground, and the stormy winds screeched with a piercing “Kiiiiiiing!”

His experience fending off the Battle Ram used by the Hornblower came to his aid. Najin cut through the swirl of wind, teeth clenched, enduring the battering force. 

Gritting his teeth against the shaking of his blade, he swung upward.

Thwack.

The storm split, but he had no time for relief. Through the parting vortex, he saw another surge rushing in.

Battle Ram…

What had been a secret move for the Hornblower was nothing of the sort for Aldaran—he unleashed it in continuous succession. 

Seeing the raging wind again, Najin’s eyes trembled.