A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 58

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Older Brother.”
At the soft call, Ludvil lifted his head.
“You said you’d looked into the Sword of Protection before? When I searched for related books, Jimmy brought them right away.”
“So you stopped by the Library.”
“Yes.”
Ludvil nodded lightly.
“It’s with the Jebillen Family now.”
“That’s right.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Your impressions after reading all those books, Older Brother?”
Ludvil regarded Camilla quietly for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth.
“If you’ve read through even the ancient texts, you can discern one crucial fact.”
“….”
“The location of the Sword of Protection.”
Indeed. By piecing together the materials, including the ancient texts, one could easily deduce where the Sword of Protection likely rested.
It was a matter of ancient history. When the Faebler Empire had just emerged, an organization had convulsed the entire Continent.
It was the Eba Cult—a religious group that worshipped a god called Eba.
Countless people followed them.
There was only one reason: those who followed them could attain eternal life.
It was a power that could truly sustain existence forever. By some incomprehensible force, those who followed the god Eba neither aged nor died.
Word of eternal life spread, and followers of the god Eba multiplied exponentially. But….
‘How could people not die?’
Even the slightest reflection revealed something unsettling and unnatural about it.
Indeed, the power came with a price. Their eternal life was obtained by sacrificing the lives of others.
The powerless, the poor, and the ignorant became their victims.
Once this truth came to light, war erupted between the followers of the god Eba and those who deemed them evil and sought to condemn them.
The followers of Eba, now possessed of tremendous power, did not yield easily. They persisted tenaciously, sustained by the blood of countless people.
But in times of chaos, heroes always emerge.
A man appeared who ended the prolonged war and drove out all the forces of evil—a man named Mars.
‘The sword that man wielded was the Sword of Protection.’
Even the followers of Eba, whose hearts could burst yet not die, were powerless before the Sword of Protection.
The moment the cult leader’s neck fell to the Sword of Protection, the long and bitter war came to an end.
And once the war ended, Mars quietly vanished from sight.
‘The Sword of Protection disappeared at that time as well.’
But if one traces Mars’s movements, the sword’s whereabouts naturally follow.
“Yet no one ever found it.”
Many sought to locate the sword, but through all those long years, none succeeded.
Only Zeno Jebillen managed to find the Sword of Protection.
“Do you know what people most often say when they speak of the Sword of Protection?”
A sword that chooses its master.
“Why was it that only Zeno, among so many who sought the same place, could find the sword?”
Camilla offered no answer.
Ludvil didn’t seem to mind her silence, as if he hadn’t truly expected a response to begin with.
From Camilla’s lips, who had been watching him with an odd expression, came a small groan.
“So you knew as well, Older Brother.”
The reason why Zeno Jebillen, the very one who had sought out the Guardian Sword, had not been chosen by it.
“Anyone with a deep interest in the Guardian Sword could deduce it without much difficulty. Yet why did everyone remain silent?”
“…Because it concerns the Jebillen Ducal House.”
Ludvil nodded without speaking.
“It is another family’s history.”
Meaning it was not a matter for outsiders to meddle in. Camilla agreed with his words.
‘But….’
Camilla exhaled a short breath.
‘The problem is that the person from that history now stands before me.’
* * *
[Aren’t you training?]
“No.”
The Training Grounds were in the midst of sword instruction.
Yet Camilla, as always, sprawled beneath the shade of a tree.
Zeno regarded her with a look of disdain.
Before, it mattered little whether she shirked or not, but now it was different.
[The only one who can see me, and she idles away during sword lessons.]
“I have no talent for swordplay.”
Training wouldn’t improve my skills regardless, and I had no intention of grasping a blade and sweating in this heat.
[Your physical condition isn’t poor.]
Such was Zeno’s assessment after examining me briefly.
“Never mind.”
Whether my physique was good or not, I had no interest in swords to begin with.
The original Camilla had desperately sought sword lessons to become a true member of the Sorpel Family, but I was not her.
Wouldn’t it be wise to abandon quickly what one knows they lack talent for?
Besides, from what I’d seen last time, Duke Sorpel didn’t seem intent on forcing me to learn swordplay.
Rather, he appeared to hope I would abandon this pointless pursuit as soon as possible, wasting no effort on a skill I lacked.
‘I should quit soon.’
Watching the sword lessons and people who remained utterly indifferent to whatever I did, I resolved to transfer courses as quickly as possible.
‘This is no longer someone else’s world.’
Now that I understood this was where I would continue to live, there was no need to keep burying myself in the mess someone else had carelessly left behind.
[You have decent muscle mass fundamentally, and your skeletal structure is good too.]
“You can tell all that just by looking?”
[At my level, I know everything.]
“Ah, yes.”
You certainly know how impressive you are, don’t you, ghost?
Camilla couldn’t tear her gaze away from Zeno as he turned his attention back to the Training Grounds.
His eyes grew distant once more as he watched the students devoted to swordplay.
He must be recalling memories from when he attended this place.
“That sword.”
Camilla’s gaze shifted to his chest—to the Guardian’s Sword embedded in his left breast.
“It wasn’t difficult to find, was it?”
[Of course it was difficult. It took nearly a year, didn’t it? I happened to discover the sword lodged at the edge of a cliff shrouded in thick mist.]
“So it’s true—Zeno found that sword.”
[That’s something everyone already knows. Why bring it up now?]
Though Camilla watched him smile faintly, she did not smile in return.
“You do understand that the Guardian’s Sword chooses its own master, don’t you?”
[Is there anyone who doesn’t know that?]
“Do you know why people couldn’t find the sword for all those long centuries?”
[Well, that’s….]
Zeno, who had been answering so readily, faltered.
His gaze and Camilla’s met in the empty air between them.
“Because only one acknowledged as its master can find the sword.”
[….]
“Yet when Zeno returned home with the sword, he was not its master.”
A contradiction far too great.
He found the sword and brought it back, yet the one who carried it was never acknowledged as its master by the blade? If he hadn’t been acknowledged, he couldn’t have found it in the first place.
“The sword that revealed itself to the world once more was no longer the Guardian’s Sword. Like a person who has lost their soul, the Guardian’s Sword was merely a massive lump of metal.”
It did not shine of its own accord as the ancient texts described, nor did it sing.
“Because—”
The smile vanished entirely from Zeno’s face.
“The master the sword chose had died.”
[….]
Camilla’s gaze fixed upon the sword embedded in Zeno’s chest.
“You had an older brother.”
Camilla continued speaking without removing her eyes from the blade.
“One who died a very long time ago—”
[….]
“Your twin brother.”
* * *
“Zeno, is this the place?”
“It has to be. You said so yourself—the ancient texts are practically screaming at us to come here, with clues scattered everywhere.”
“But if everyone else couldn’t find it, doesn’t that suggest there’s something dangerous here?”
“Dangerous or not, I’m going to find the Guardian’s Sword no matter what.”
Two men in their early twenties wandered deep into the mountains.
A space so thick with mist that I couldn’t see even an inch ahead.
Yet the man walking before me, Zeno, moved with a vigor and enthusiasm unlike any other moment.
“Please, be careful.”
Watching his younger brother like that, Mikhail sighed continuously.
No one could stop him from leaving home to find the Guardian Sword. Everyone knew all too well how obsessed he became when it came to swords.
Had they tried to forbid him, he likely would have run away from home to search for it anyway. That’s why Mikhail ultimately followed him—he couldn’t bear to let him go alone.
It had already been a week since we entered Mist Mountain and got lost. The provisions we’d prepared from the nearby village were nearly depleted.
‘At this rate, something terrible will really happen.’
I had no more strength to endure.
Mikhail sighed continuously, hoping Zeno would soon give up searching for the sword. If necessary, he was prepared to forcibly drag him back down.
“Mikhail!”
“Huh?”
“Look over there!”
Just then, Zeno, who had been walking ahead, called out to him with an excited voice.
Mikhail furrowed his brow as he looked at where Zeno was pointing.
There was nothing particularly special about it. Just a steep cliff spreading out before his eyes.
“It’s the sword!”
“What?”
“The sword! We finally found the Guardian Sword!”
Even watching him bounce around like a child, Mikhail couldn’t share his enthusiasm. His eyes couldn’t see anything.
But then…
“Just look!”
Shing!
“…!”
He saw it. Zeno pulling the sword from the ground! Only then could Mikhail perceive the sword’s existence.
“It’s exactly like what I saw in the book!”
He was right. The Guardian Sword before him matched perfectly with the one drawn in the book.
Uuuuuung—!
“Wow!”
While Mikhail flinched at the resonant cry emanating from the sword, Zeno’s smile only grew brighter.
A soft glow radiated from the sword he held.
“Can I…?”
“Hm?”
“Can I try holding it too?”
“Of course!”
Zeno immediately handed the Guardian Sword to Mikhail.
Uuuung…
The moment Mikhail grasped the sword, the blade that had been glowing and resonating fell silent.
“What? It’s not singing anymore?”
“…”
“Haha, the sword doesn’t suit you, Mikhail. You seem to dislike it.”
Again.
Again, only that man was chosen.
‘As expected of Zeno.’
‘How could he create such swordsmanship?’
‘He’s a genius! A genius!’
‘Compared to him, Mikhail….’
‘Mikhail is the eldest son.’
‘The next head of the family will surely be….’
“…Why.”
Why, why, why…!
“Mikhail?”
“Why is it you again.”
“What?”
“Why is it always you!”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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