Academy’s Genius Swordmaster

Chapter 213

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 213: King of the North (7)

[

With more context revealed, it has been made clear that “Zafia” is a male. Not female. Going forward, “Zafia” will be referred to as “He/Him”. We apologize for any inconvenience caused in your reading experience.]

“This is… Zaifa’s handwriting.”

Ronan narrowed his gaze as he looked at the parchment. He had seen Zaifa’s scribbles before when they drank together in Parzan. It was unmistakably Zaifa’s handwriting.

‘I’m sure.’

The parchment he held was a collection of letters addressed to Barka. The date of receipt was separately noted in the lower right corner of each letter.

Arranged in chronological order, the letters were all worn to the point where the edges were torn. Some were in particularly bad condition, with torn edges patched together as if they had been torn apart and then stuck back together.

‘He must have read them a lot. But was Barka’s claim true?’

Suddenly, Ronan recalled Barka’s words inside the ice cave. Barka had mentioned that Zaifa had mentioned his name in a letter.

‘Could it be…’

Doubts that had been lying deep within him began to surface. Seeing Ronan suddenly stop in his tracks, Adeshan raised an eyebrow.

“Ronan? What are you doing over there?”

“Just a moment… hold on.”

Ronan raised his hand, signaling for Adeshan to wait. This couldn’t be ignored. He began to read the letter as if he were captivated by something. The first letter had arrived eight years ago.

“Little brother, are the soldiers gathering as planned… Although I have made a pact with the Emperor, but… damn it.”

Ronan muttered curses as he read the letter. It was nothing short of a rebellion plan. Beneath the instructions lay confidential information about the Imperial Army.

Jaeger’s words were wrong. He had mentioned that Zaifa and Barka’s relationship had completely deteriorated after Zaifa’s surrender, but that was clearly misinformation. Zaifa was in fact closely allied with Barka.

“That damn cat…!”

It felt like being hit by an axe of disbelief. Ronan continued to quickly scan through the next letters. They contained increasingly rebellious content.

Until just three years ago, Zaifa had been talking about the liberation of the North and the Empire becoming a heap of ashes. Every word seemed filled with venom. It felt like he could understand why Navirose had warned him.

There was a profound sense of betrayal, but at the same time, it felt pitiful. Ronan wondered what could have happened in the past to make a person become like this. Occasionally, the vague reminiscences of memories with his childhood sweetheart would offer fleeting glimpses into the past, hinting at what might have been.

‘…Did he say his entire family was killed?’

In the letters, Zaifa expressed more hatred towards the Empire than anyone else. Although there was a mention of Nebula Clazier at one point, the main topic was always the anger towards the Empire and the consolidation of the North. As Ronan read on, he grabbed the next letter.

“Today, while carrying out a mission, I met a guy named Ronan… huh?”

His eyes widened as he saw a familiar name. Judging by the date, the letter was written about two years ago. It contained the events of the day when he, along with Aselle and Zafia, dealt with Nebula Clazier on Wyverns.

“He was quite amusing… In terms of interest, he’s on par with the Swordmaster I mentioned before, Navirose… A little brat who hasn’t even reached twenty yet, yet he carries a sense of justice…”

Ronan realized that Zaifa had been closely observing him. It seemed that standing up against the giant organization Nebula Clazier had piqued his interest.

From then on, the tone of the letters began to change. The main content was no longer about hatred towards the Empire, but rather about plans for the future and precautions to be taken.

“He’s a remarkable guy. He even asked me to help move. Can you believe it?”

“Having heard Ronan’s words, I conducted an investigation. Those guys are much more dangerous than we thought… Brother, be careful of Nebula Clazier. Now is not the time for us to fight amongst ourselves… ”

There was no more talk of rebellion in the letters from around this time. As the dates approached the present, the venom seemed to lessen.

The recent letters mainly consisted of brief updates, along with a recurring theme emphasizing that now is not the time for rebellion, and everyone must unite their strength to eliminate those fanatics. It seemed that Barka’s temper had flared up, as evidenced by the fact that all the letters from this time period had been torn once and then reattached.

“Two months ago, I drank with Ronan… we were attacked by a guy named Darman at the summit of Parzan…”

The last letter detailed events that occurred at the Festival of Swords. Zaifa no longer referred to Ronan with derogatory terms, such as a brat. The letter ended with the assertion that the northern forces needed to unite and fight against Nebula Clazier.

The reading of the letters lasted less than three minutes. Ronan chuckled as he looked away from the letters.

“…Old geezer, being wishy-washy.”

Zaifa was not a traitor. The axe did not strike his heel. Ronan realized that it was he himself who had changed him. This was the “difference from his previous life” that he had been searching for.

Whether intentional or not, by meeting him, Zaifa forgot the hatred and pursued another justice. Ronan felt like he understood why Barka despised Zafia so much.

The outlines of the events were starting to become clearer. Ronan was determined to continue his pursuit. Just as he was about to proceed, a broken voice from behind the door interrupted him.

“Did you… read that?”

“Barka.”

“Following me all the way here… You’re quite… persistent.”

It was Barka. Judging by his growly tone, it seemed that his neck wounds hadn’t fully healed yet. Ronan tossed the letters aside and aimed his sword at the door. Bang! The wall blew out, revealing the space behind it. A foul stench engulfed both of them.

“Ugh…!”

“A laboratory?”

The spacious room, carved out of the ice sea, was filled with hundreds of shelves and countless experimental tools.

On the five-tiered shelves, special-treated corpses lay neatly arranged. Most of the stench seemed to be emanating from there. Both Ronan and Adeshan furrowed their brows at the grotesque sight, reminiscent of a market.

“Come out here!”

It was abhorrent, but they couldn’t help but go forward. The two of them immediately entered the laboratory. There was no sign of where Barka might be hiding. His voice echoed again.

“We brothers… Ah, literally everything was taken from us by the Empire.”

“Damn it, where are you hiding?”

The pursuit was difficult due to the vast and cluttered space. Despite smashing through whatever was blocking their path, it was nearly impossible to make progress following the Blood Needle. Barka continued speaking.

“I was better off because I had no wife or children… But, haha, Zaifa, even his beloved family were brutally killed by the imperial pigs. Don’t you wonder what happened?”

“Shut up, you bastard. Don’t try to play on emotions.”

“In our original fate, both of us brothers would have become hunters… Cough! That was decades ago…”

The pursuit was still encountering obstacles. Barka began to tell his own story, ignoring Ronan’s words.

It was a tragedy that occurred long before the Night of the Fangs, when oppression in the North was severe. Barka, who was coughing violently, continued speaking.

“It was a day like any other… The border area was chaotic, but our village was in a remote area even within the north… No one expected such a thing to happen…”

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Originally, the Turkon brothers had no interest in war. Until that incident happened, they hadn’t even killed anyone. If there were any conflicts with the imperial soldiers, they simply fought back against those who harassed their compatriots.

“Our only hope was to lead peaceful lives… If the imperial soldiers weren’t truly vile, we could’ve just scared them off… Cough! But those scoundrels even committed such actions as assault… The pigs of the Empire organized special forces just to retaliate against us brothers…”

The tragedy unfolded while the brothers were away hunting. The imperial soldiers took advantage of the Turkon brothers’ absence and carried out a massacre in the village.

What the brothers saw upon returning from the hunt were the burning houses, scattered headless corpses, and the heads of the villagers displayed mockingly on a stone monument at the entrance of the village.

“It’s ironic that the vengeance was enacted not on us, but on the people of the village… Among the heads displayed so proudly, were my parents and Zaifa’s beloved wife and children.”

Ronan grimaced at the predictable yet dreadful story. Adeshan’s expression remained rigid throughout.

“At the time of the Night of the Fangs, Zaifa was like a sun burning black… He was our respected brother who never forgot his hatred even after falsely surrendering to the Empire… But at some point, the contents of his letters started to become strange… It all started from the moment he met you, Ronan.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I know… but Zaifa changed… He tried to persuade me, saying now is not the time to focus on the Empire. He muttered nonsense about how our true enemy is someone else… From that moment, I severed ties with Zaifa.”

Bang! Ronan knocked over the shelf in front of him with his shoulder. It seemed like he caught a glimpse of something like a tail, but he let it slip away. The Blood Needle spun round and round following Barka’s movements.

“I hate the Empire… And now I hate Zaifa just as much for forgetting his hatred. That’s why I started calling upon the stars, I will destroy the Empire with the power he feared so much…”

“You’re insane.”

Ronan chuckled bitterly. He realized that Barka had become part of Nebula Clazier simply out of resentment towards Zaifa. Ronan also learned the startling fact that Barka had risen to the position of Bishop in the Northern Diocese within Nebula Clazier.

“So I learned necromancy and curses. Not long ago, I even developed a weapon to destroy both the Empire and Zaifa. It’s…”

“Shut up now. I’m not interested.”

Ronan cut him off. There was no more value in listening. Though it was undoubtedly a sad story, it couldn’t serve as an excuse for evil deeds. Countless people suffer in the world, but not all of them become criminals.

Ronan switched his power source, pulling at the hilt of his sword. The shimmering sword, enveloped in mana, was unsheathed. He turned to Adeshan and said.

“Stick close to me. As close as possible.”

“Okay.”

Adeshan complied without a word. She seemed to understand what Ronan was thinking. He swung the sword downward, creating a shockwave that exploded outward from him.

“Ugh?!”

From somewhere, Barka’s confusion could be heard. It was the Aura stolen from Bishop Teranill in the past. The shockwave, which became more powerful with each iteration, blew away all the shelves, experimental tools, and displayed corpses in the laboratory. Seeing the potential power, Ronan muttered to himself.

“I should have done this sooner.”

There was nothing left to obstruct their vision. The two of them looked in the direction indicated by the Blood Needle. Across the hazy dust cloud, Barka stood amidst the chaos of the laboratory.

“Grrrr…”

Ronan and Barka locked eyes. The low growl that emanated from Barka seemed to reveal his primal nature, driven by the current circumstances.

His limbs that had been severed had regenerated. He held two large swords in his hands. Ronan, aiming his sword at Barka, opened his mouth.

“Nice swords. So, is this the end of your message?”

“Hold on, Ronan. Something’s off.”

Just as he was about to activate his Aura again, Adeshan grabbed Ronan’s shoulder. He tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“That… isn’t Barka.”

“What?”

Ronan’s brows narrowed at the inexplicable words. Something indeed seemed off. The figure was much smaller than Barka and emitted a much more intense aura. However the resemblance between the two was strong enough to cause confusion. Ronan narrowed his eyes.

“…Then who is that?”

“I don’t know either. But this Aura is undoubtedly Zaifa’s… Unless.”

For a moment, Adeshan’s face froze. She seemed like someone who had discovered a terrifying fact that she didn’t even want to imagine. Amidst an awkward silence. The adversary who had been standing still suddenly rushed towards them.

“Grrrr! Kraaaaagh!”

“This…!”

Ronan’s eyes widened. Three blades were locked together, growling at each other as if they were about to devour each other. A Weretiger boy, covered in black fur all over his body, was rushing towards Ronan.

“Kuhh!”

“Ugh!”

The force was so overwhelming that even activating Varen’s aura wouldn’t push him back. The monstrous creature surpassed Barka in both speed and strength. It was unclear where such a creature had emerged from.

Deep scar marks were carved around his thick neck. Every time the boy opened his mouth, the stench of decaying corpses wafted out. Like Barka’s other subordinates, he seemed like a corpse warrior revived by necromancy. For a moment, the boy retreated and then rushed forward again.

“Kraagh!”

“Damn it, what the hell is this?”

Clang! A whirlwind of sword strikes rained down on Ronan. There was no gap in the attacks, like a raging torrent. From far away in the laboratory, Barka’s voice echoed.

“Allow me to introduce… Cough! My masterpiece, containing all my wishes. I was barely able to decrypt it in time…”

“Barka!”

The two of them turned their heads simultaneously. This time, it was truly Barka. His wounds were still not fully healed.

Metal prosthetics and orthoses were roughly implanted into his severed limbs. Ronan tried to rush towards Barka, but the monster in front of him wouldn’t allow it.

“Damn it, get out of the way…!”

“Kreck!”

No matter which angle Ronan swung his sword, the boy either dodged or parried. Sparks flew with each clash of the blades. Among the opponents Ronan fought recently, he was undoubtedly one of the top.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

Suddenly, the words Barka said earlier crossed Ronan’s mind. He had mentioned something about a weapon capable of destroying both Zaifa and the Empire. Suddenly, Ronan’s face hardened as he faced the boy.

“You, could it be…”

He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. He seemed to have realized the boy’s identity. A chill ran down his spine for a moment.

It was hard to believe that a person could be so evil. Though still young, the overall contour of the face closely resembled someone Ronan knew. Barka, who was catching his breath, spoke up.

“Yes… He’s Aradan Turkon, the son of Zaifa.”

[Translator – Peptobismol]