WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Ilafy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Pulled Out Excalibur

Chapter 175

──────

About the First Pillar (3)

Najin spent quite some time in conversation with Gerd, exchanging what he knew about the Carnival King and discussing their next steps. A few requests were made in the process.

“I’ll look into that,” Gerd said.
“Thank you. You suspect the Empire has already attempted multiple campaigns against the Carnival King, and the records of those campaigns were erased. That sounds plausible. The incidents you mentioned do have suspicious elements.”

Gerd stroked his beard. “Imperial history contains a gap starting around the Dawn War. The official story the chroniclers keep is that rebel arson destroyed the relevant records, but now I find myself questioning that too. Was it truly destruction by fire, or was a deliberate blank spot left behind?”

With a low hum, he shifted his gaze. Standing atop the tower, he took in a view of the entire Empire. “Clearly, we need to examine everything again from the beginning. The Dawn War isn’t our only concern. We ought to re-investigate every case that ended abruptly or unnaturally. We never know where hidden embers may be lurking.”

He spoke as he surveyed the Empire spread out below. “All of it must be handled transparently, precisely, and swiftly. The longer this takes, the greater the chance of further distortion.”

He was not bluffing. If he desired it, it would indeed happen. He was not simply a master of might. 

It was no exaggeration when Karan, the Sword Saint, once said Gerd “surpasses me in every area except swordsmanship.” Gerd was the Empire’s Sword Master but also the Empire’s First Pillar holding up the Empire.

He was the one who brought about the rise of the current Emperor, the man who saved the Empire from the rebels on multiple occasions, the mentor of the royal knights—their supreme commander who could mobilize them with a mere gesture.

While Emperor Elwin was the Imperial Sovereign, Gerd was the soldiers’ lord.

Though he never exploited it for personal gain, Gerd possessed the power to turn the Empire upside down on a whim. Nearly two centuries of loyal service had placed near-absolute authority in his hands.

‘The Empire’s First Pillar is effectively the Empire’s top power broker,’ Najin thought.

That power broker was on the move.

For two hundred years, Gerd had never once wielded power for private reasons, but he was prepared to use it decisively. On top of that, he had a just cause.

The Carnival King was warping the Empire’s history. A demon wanted to shake a thousand-year Empire to its core.

Naturally, its Pillar should stand against such a foe.

He had the authority and the rationale. Najin could only guess at the upheaval that might ensue, but he was certain the imperial bureaucrats were about to scream.

“Come on,” Gerd said, rising to his feet. “I’ll see you out.”

Najin blinked. Being shown out personally? 

Gerd, noticing his confusion, simply explained there was nothing strange about it. “I told you, I owe you a tremendous debt, and I don’t take that lightly. As of today, you are under the Empire’s protection, and that means you have me at your back.”

“Yes, but—”

“There’s more value in making it public. I have no intention of hiding it. The benefit of showing off that I’m behind you far outweighs anything we’d gain by secrecy.”

In other words, he intended to make it plain to everyone that Najin was under his personal aegis. 

Najin slowly nodded. True to his word, Gerd personally escorted him to the tower’s exit.

The crowd gathered near the First Pillar’s Tower saw them emerge together.

They had gathered because, out of nowhere, an eighth star had appeared above the First Pillar’s Tower. They had been murmuring in awe over Gerd’s newly acquired eighth star; then watched as he and Najin walked out side by side.

At the tower’s entrance, Gerd and Najin exchanged a few parting words. 

In front of everyone, Gerd said, “Never forget that the doors of the First Pillar’s Tower will always be open to you,” and then returned inside.

No one there was stupid enough to miss the blunt meaning behind his words. The crowd stared wide-eyed at Najin.

Najin, on the other hand, took their stares in stride and continued on his way. Nobody dared approach or question him—they simply parted to let him pass.

The Star of Dawn had paid a visit to the First Pillar’s Tower; the Empire’s First Pillar had acquired an eighth star.

It didn’t take long for that news to spread throughout the Empire, and naturally, those at the Grey Tower and the empire’s historians who got word—

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

They smacked their foreheads in dismay. The slapping sound was louder and more resounding, likely because their foreheads had grown so much over the last few months.

“What? The Empire’s First Pillar got his eighth star? Sir Gerd is still here on the continent. How did that just… happen out of the blue?” asked Durek, an imperial historian, blinking in confusion.

He pressed between his eyebrows, letting out a pained sigh. “It’s a cause for celebration, sure. A real celebration, but…”

He realized once again he wasn’t going home anytime soon. Another fresh wave of tears threatened. So many incidents had broken out that he couldn’t even recall the last time he’d set foot in his house.

“All right, let’s hear it from the top.”

They said they were still coordinating with the Grey Tower for details, but the moment Durek heard that particular name, he shot upright with wild eyes. “Najin?”

“Yes, sir. We have reports he visited the First Pillar’s Tower at exactly the same time Sir Gerd acquired his new star.”

‘Him again?’

Durek cursed and all but screamed.

“I said before that he’d probably be crossing swords with the Sword Masters next, but now he’s the one giving them new stars? What in all the—”

Similar exclamations of despair arose at the Grey Tower, though their people had to watch their words because the Grey Tower Master rather adored Najin.

“At least he’s the reason for a new star this time, so we probably won’t have to do as much scrambling,” Durek said. “That’s more on the Grey Tower. Maybe we’ll get a breather for a change—”

“Uh, Master Durek?”

“Stop. Don’t say a word. Whenever you say my name, I feel a trembling in my hands. I might develop a nervous tremor at this rate. Maybe I should pretend I have it already and retire. I’ve done enough—”

“Sir, Gerd himself sent you a signed letter, saying you must open it immediately—”

He opened it. Scanning the contents, Durek laughed a dry laugh. “To all the Empire’s historians: retrieve and re-examine every record relating to the Dawn War that may have been ‘destroyed,’ along with any documents pertaining to the previous First Pillar or the Carnival King, including all suspiciously unresolved incidents of the last three centuries since the Londinel crisis…”

He trailed off, letting the letter slip through his fingers. “A complete re-investigation. Everything. Quickly.” Muttering as though half-crazed, Durek slumped in place, passing out on his feet. 

Of course, the actual re-investigation fell to another department—but linking and analyzing all that material would inevitably fall to the historians.

Three hundred years of archives?

If someone else had handed down such an order, Durek would have just said, “Ha! You must be joking,” and offered them a rude gesture. 

The man who had issued it was the Empire’s First Pillar.

What is a Pillar of the Empire? If one of the Five Pillars pointed to a mountain and said, “Hmm, that shape’s a bit off. Let’s carve it a bit,” then hundreds of knights would arrive to carve it. After finishing, if the Pillar changed his mind—“No, let’s move it altogether”—they would do that, too.

Such was the authority wielded by the Pillars. The tallest pillar of all had commanded: “Gather those materials and place them before me.”

No one could refuse, especially not when it came from the same Gerd who, in his younger days, had allegedly amused himself by ripping out the tongues of chroniclers for sloppy record-keeping. 

Anyone who valued their own head, tongue, and wrists would jump to comply.

Tears slid down Durek’s cheeks. “Goddammit…” That simple curse wasn’t enough to express his grief. 

He needed an even ruder phrase. He repeated it again. “Goddammit, fucking hell.”

It was hardly fitting language for an imperial historian, but nobody thought to correct him. These were extenuating circumstances.

Life in the Imperial capital, Camelot, was more comfortable than Najin had ever imagined.

He’d heard rumors back in Cambria of how Camelot was a realm so lofty that it turned even high nobles into commoners, a city teeming with the highest echelons of power and prestige. 

He felt no sense of intimidation.

His lodgings were sumptuous. Anything he required took only a quick word to the staff on the ground floor, and within minutes it would be delivered to his door. Meals arrived exactly on schedule, and if he stepped out for just a bit, he’d return to find his room cleaned until it looked brand-new.

“This is… pretty nice.” What truly left Najin speechless was that it all came free. Could Camelot be heaven?

Of course not. He was a VIP among VIPs in Dieta’s trading company, and the higher-ups had stressed time and again that they spared no effort in looking after him. Naturally, the staff treated him like their lord.

In a sense, he was. Najin was close, both professionally and personally, with the chairwoman who paid their wages, and thanks to him, the company’s stock prices had soared, along with everyone’s salaries. 

In short, they owed him a great deal.

-You there.

Merlin heaved a sigh, glancing sideways at Najin.

-Remember that so-called ‘lofty realm’ you mentioned? You’re part of it, too, you know.

 “Huh?”

-You said Camelot was a realm above all others, crammed with big shots. Doesn’t that include you?

Najin blinked. Right… come to think of it, she had a point, between the feats he’d achieved and the connections he’d made—the chairwoman of a major trading company, and no fewer than three Sword Masters in the Empire…

The First Pillar was backing him as well. If nothing else, the sheer weight of those relationships made him a major figure.

“It feels strange,” he said, looking faintly amazed.

Only two years had passed since he left the Underground City. Two years earlier, he could never have dreamed of standing where he was. He felt wonder at his accomplishments, and a bit of unease.

Life in the continent was pleasant, comfortable, and even fun, but he hadn’t gone there for comfort. All the things he truly wanted lay on paths of risk and hardship, not in the safety of hearth and home.

He would only rest for a while.

He still had much to do, unfinished business in both the Outland and the Empire—things that demanded he become stronger first. 

Pondering that, he tried ordering his thoughts and planning the road ahead.

Just then, a small bell chimed, and the morning delivery arrived with the day’s newspaper. He spread it out to skim the headlines, half expecting to see more noisy commentary about him, but…

“What?” His eyes widened. Emblazoned across the front page was not a story about him.

“Excalibur Sighted in the Outland!”

“In the depths of the Outland’s ‘Eternal City,’ rumors surface of a newly spotted Excalibur!”

“A high figure in the Starbody Society claims to have seen ‘a platinum-haired woman brandishing Excalibur.’ Her identity remains unknown, but it appears she operates near the Eternal City…”

Najin turned sharply.

Merlin was reading the same article. Her eyes were even wider than his.