Chapter 193: Sword for Life (2)
“What kind of nonsense…”
Sheratiya Viyan, about to scold Harang again for his nonsense, closed her mouth.
His expression was too serious.
It carried a desperation beyond even when he’d asked for help interpreting the Aura Cultivation thod.
It almost felt like he was lost. It was a far cry from the usual Harang she knew.
‘What’s going on?’
Sheratiya thought with a slightly hurt expression.
To her, Harang was an extraordinary person unmatched by anyone. His victory at the Seton Swordsmanship Festival in his early 20s and rescuing Daereon from Red Magician’s minions proved it. So enthusiasts firmly believed Harang would reach the Master realm within 20 years and beco the continent’s strongest within 50.
‘But Harang is always anxious. Always restless. As if soone’s chasing him.’
That’s why he never rests.
He never settles or relaxes.
Seeing him pour his all into swordsmanship as always made her wish he’d spare even a fraction of that devotion for her, but his serious and desperate deanor made it impossible to voice such thoughts.
‘But today, I want to be a bit braver.’
Sheratiya’s expression hardened.
She was a rchant, and trading was a rchant’s foundation.
Give and take.
If she gave sothing, shouldn’t she receive sothing in return?
With that thought, she looked straight at Harang.
As Harang felt a slight pressure from her gaze, Sheratiya slowly spoke.
“Who are you fighting?”
“……What?”
“I’m asking who you’re fighting. To make soone as strong as you this anxious… how powerful are they? A Master?”
“…….”
“Or soone even stronger?”
“That’s…”
Harang, at a loss for words, looked at Sheratiya’s face.
Her expression was stubbornly resolute.
He was flustered. When she made that face, he couldn’t get what he wanted unless he gave her what she wanted.
But telling Sheratiya about the current situation was highly dangerous.
The village.
Red Magician.
Black Hydra.
The Godok and the nurous enemies surrounding him were far too great a trial for an ordinary rchant’s daughter to handle.
“……No answer? Then I’m leaving.”
With Harang hesitating, Sheratiya Viyan turned away without lingering.
She passed the fountain in the plaza, moving farther away little by little. Harang could only stare blankly.
…No.
That wasn’t true.
The old Harang might have let her disappear into the crowd, oblivious to the mood.
But not now.
Why?
He didn’t know why, but aside from seeking answers to his question, the thought that he couldn’t let her go overwheld him instantly.
Step, step.
He quickly moved forward.
Grab—
He caught her hand as she moved away.
Sheratiya Viyan turned back with slightly surprised eyes.
Harang smiled awkwardly and said:
“Oh, sorry. Did I grab too hard?”
“……No. That’s not why.”
“Then…”
“It’s just… this is a bit unexpected?”
With a soft chuckle, she looked up at Harang.
Her deanor felt both familiar and different, making Harang’s mind go slightly blank.
‘I need to say sothing.’
Yes.
He needed to say sothing.
He couldn’t tell her everything, but watching Sheratiya leave in disappointnt wasn’t what he wanted either.
He had to do sothing.
He had to do sothing.
Sothing…
“Pfft.”
At that mont,
Sheratiya burst into laughter again.
Harang looked at her with a dumbfounded expression, and as she laughed once more, she waved her hand and said:
“Alright, alright. Why am I trying to make a deal with a guy like this…”
“What? What do you an…”
“It’s nothing. Just, seeing you agonize so intensely was kind of funny.”
“…….”
“But let ask one thing. You’re keeping quiet because you’re thinking of , right?”
Sheratiya asked, and Harang nodded imdiately.
“That’s right. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.”
“Okay, that’s enough. But when the ti cos that it’s okay to talk, tell first. No matter if it takes hours or a whole day, tell everything.”
“…….”
“Got it?”
With a piercing gaze, Sheratiya pressed Harang.
Her expression wasn’t much different from her usual sharp and intense deanor, but to Harang, it felt slightly different now.
He couldn’t put it into words. Harang was terribly awkward at describing such feelings.
But…
“……Got it.”
It wasn’t a bad feeling.
Nodding with a serious expression, Harang spoke again in a firm tone:
“When it’s all over, I’ll tell you first, Lady Sheratiya. All the things I couldn’t say until now.”
“Haha, good. I’m the first, huh?”
Seemingly pleased by Harang’s words, Sheratiya responded with a bright smile.
To keep up with her butterfly-like movents, Harang stepped forward little by little, realizing then that he was still holding her hand.
‘……No need to let go, right?’
Nodding slightly so others wouldn’t notice, he moved to Sheratiya’s side, matching her pace.
As they began to act like a couple for the first ti since their contract relationship, so rchants whispered among themselves.
But neither cared.
The sharp-witted Sheratiya Viyan and the perceptive Harang walked as if they were the only two on Marzen’s streets, gazing only at each other.
After strolling around Marzen’s Outer District, they returned to the central plaza and sat side by side on a bench, each holding a cool drink to beat the sumr heat.
At that mont,
Sheratiya Viyan spoke, delivering an answer long delayed.
“I don’t really agree that negative emotions are more intense and profound than positive ones.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well…”
Because when fused into swordsmanship, the difference was clear.
The rage sparked by soone’s sacrifice.
The Aura born from self-loathing was more intense, hotter. Every ti his strikes, like pouring lava, t an enemy, they faltered without exception.
In contrast, positive emotions were hard to integrate into swordsmanship from the start.
It wasn’t that they didn’t fit.
They lacked stimulation.
To be honest, negative emotions felt far more suitable for producing sufficient power.
“Honestly, isn’t it true? The joy of finding one Silver on the street is far less than the irritation and anger of losing one Silver. Hearing your lifespan increased by 10 years might make you moderately happy, but hearing it decreased by 10 years would make you wail like the world’s collapsing.”
“Hm, that’s true.”
“That’s my point. Negative emotions, the feelings from loss and sacrifice… they feel much more intense to . Stupidly so.”
“…….”
“So it’s hard. I wonder if it’s possible to fuse positive emotions into swordsmanship in a short ti.”
Harang vented his frustrations.
To be honest, he envied those from noble families or privileged environnts who trained with swords. They’d been exposed to positive emotions in good settings for a long ti, likely allowing them to wield richer emotional power than him.
‘Isn’t that why Philip Portville or the Head of the Seton Swordsmanship Hall could infuse pride from their family or hall into their swordsmanship?’
Of course, that didn’t apply to Harang.
He despised his village origins to an extre degree.
That said, it wasn’t like he had no positive experiences.
From the mont he left the village, everything was fun, novel, and positive. Especially the bonds and mories ford in Marzen were invaluable. He felt he could dedicate his entire life to them.
‘But… despite those feelings, I couldn’t fuse them into my swordsmanship.’
Harang attributed this to insufficient ti.
If more years passed, if his love for Marzen deepened, if his friendships grew stronger… wouldn’t things be different then?
That was his thought.
‘……But I can’t wait that long.’
Harang’s expression darkened.
He was anxious.
Restless.
The insecurities he’d forcibly ignored felt like they could appear at any mont and take everything away. The foolish him would only gain the desired power after losing precious things, consud by self-loathing and rage. Imagining such an unfortunate future, anxiety began to claw at his chest, making his breathing rapid.
Heart Demon.
A rare affliction of the mind that struck swordsn on the verge of enlightennt, its sharp fangs gleaming as it prepared to tear into Harang.
Slap—!
“……?”
“Snap out of it.”
Sheratiya Viyan, who had been quietly watching Harang, suddenly raised her hand and slapped his cheek.
It stung quite a bit. Though he didn’t see it, Harang figured a red handprint must be blooming on his cheek as he asked:
“What was that for?”
“You weren’t snapping out of it.”
“…….”
“And I was a bit annoyed.”
“Annoyed about what?”
Harang said with a hint of protest.
Of course, he didn’t actually hold any resentnt toward Sheratiya. She was one of the precious bonds in his life, after all.
‘And I really wasn’t snapping out of it.’
It felt awkward to admit after being slapped, but his mind did feel clearer.
But that wasn’t the important part.
The words flowing from Sheratiya’s mouth.
The mix of worry, concern, regret, and gratitude directed at him began to slowly lt into Harang’s heart.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
“Positive emotions can be shared.”
“What?”
“Love, trust, friendship. And other things. Those emotions… they don’t end with you pouring them out to soone. The recipient cherishes them and, when you need it, returns them twofold.”
“…….”
“Don’t just try to feel the emotions within you. If you embrace the emotions those around you send your way… I believe positive emotions won’t lose to negative ones at all.”
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