|Bell Rock Translations is an affiliate,
you can support them on:
Pru and Formidable
Bell Rocks Translations
Edgar’s Chapter 2: The book of inferiority
Her name spilt out of his lips. It was a name that didn’t exist anymore, but even when she still remained in this world, Edgar had never called Liloa. Even so, he liked her better when she was ‘Aspirant Liloa’ than when she was ‘Liloa Mireille’. So when he heard that Liloa had given up her commission and retired to a homely life, his disappointment was enormous.
He heard about her death about two years ago.
‘It actually must have been over 3 years since she died. I couldn’t believe it at first. To see such a prominent person disappear so futilely… I didn’t feel like I was being told the truth at all…’
Edgar had to send numerous people to Sesbron before he could accept her death. Scouting about the Mireille duchy didn’t provide any sightings or news of Liloa before she died. Despite this, Edgar only remembered her. Mireille’s possible possessions of relics didn’t even enter his head.
Edgar stepped out of his room and walked down the hallway leading to the gallery. Every space or room he passed was packed with artworks he had collected over the years. The statues and paintings lined up in the corridors, outer rooms, and stairs were things he randomly bought and excavated.
Edgar stood in the middle of the gallery and looked around. On the black and white marble floor laid out like a chessboard, stood all kinds of statues. Some were riding horses, others were wearing old-fashioned iron armour. Above the ivory-coloured wainscot, portraits of the commanders of varying eras were staring at Edgar.
Even this elaborate gallery could only cover the Degal era. The scope of history was enormous. Edgar aimed to investigate the historicity that had permeated the lengthy flow of time and to dive into the ‘myth’ of early history.
It was clear what Edgar was after. The truth. He has spent years hanging around and exploring but has yet to even define it. He didn’t dare to predict what shape it would be. He had to pave the way himself, so Edgar wanted to collect as many artefacts as possible, and decipher and record unknown myths while he was alive. The study of ancient times dominated his life.
Edgar swept the shoulder of the knight statue next to him.
‘The rust is proof that the traces of 200 years ago are deteriorating, but how far back are the ancient times buried? Just thinking about it makes me go crazy… However, when I saw Liloa, the truth that was distant to me became vivid, as if it were standing right in front of my eyes.’
The light that Edgar could only get a glimpse of was emanating from her whole body.
She was an unconventional encounter that made all his efforts insignificant. An enchanting genius.
Edgar moved his feet again. Passing through this gallery was the library. The sound of his footfall echoing on the marble floor left a reverberation as he stepped into the past…
– – – – – – – – – flashback – – – – – – – – –
It was one afternoon following a string of bright days. The Karabinae, to which Liloa belonged, was a cavalry battalion that practised horseback combat by firing while mounted. As a result, the majority of their training took place in Lebrun’s courtyard, and coincidentally, the Karabinae training area was adjacent to the naval library. One could watch Liloa train if they looked out of the window on the side facing the backyard.
Until just a few years ago, the cavalry only rode horses when they moved, and when they attacked, they dismounted to fire their weapons. As a result, they possessed skills and attributes that were midway between cavalry and infantry. Not a single expert pointed out the inefficiency of such a battle tactic. Now, the kind of cavalry that can attack while riding was known as ‘Karabinae’, and for that purpose, this special unit had been undergoing hard training and intricate restructuring.
Liloa was known for having dug into that crack. During the Karabinae’s restructuring, applicants were chosen based on their shooting skills while riding horseback and Liloa was overwhelmingly chosen and placed first on the list. But then, even those who had been puzzled by a woman’s enrollment were suddenly convinced of why Liloa was able to hold out in LeBrun after hearing about the Karabinae. Horseback riding was widely accepted for women and it didn’t require much muscle strength to shoot. Although guns weren’t suitable for women, it was also a fact that anyone could kill with a gun if they could pull the trigger. As a result, there has been a recent trend in Sesbron to mock the Karabinae as an army for girls, raising the question of why those who didn’t require bodily power could even be called soldiers.
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(Please visit Re:Library to show the translators your appreciation!)
Edgar laughed at their stupid ideas as he looked at Liloa in training.
‘The art of Karabinae is more than just the combination of horseback riding and shooting.’
Liloa, who was sitting tight on the saddle, stretched her pistol-drawn hands.
– Bang! Bang! –
Bullets fired from both guns accurately pierced the target a few yards away. A faint glow enveloped her in an instant before vanishing, and a smile of achievement that flashed across her face could be seen through her waving hair. Stowing her gun and taking the reins, Liloa swerved her back to her starting line.
‘Her balance, flexibility, and concentration stand out, but above all, I’m impressed by her strength to support her complete body in a saddle posture with the reins set. It’s truly amazing. If one didn’t know how to coordinate their whole body, they couldn’t be in the Karabinae. Liloa’s brilliance is self-evident. She is always unmoved, and her steadfastness seems to be an inborn attribute…’
“…I like looking at her from the back, that *** is to die for…”
“…Isn’t her horseback riding like a work of art? If she can ride a horse that well, I bet she could ride a man as well, right?…”
“…I wonder where she learned it. Who taught her? Her hip movements are no joke. I’m envious of that lucky *******…”
Just going out to the corridor, Edgar could hear the words mocking Liloa. As the only woman in a place where hundreds of men were trained as officers, it was no exaggeration to say that all eyes were on her. The cadets mocked Liloa, deeming her arrogant by enlisting in the army, and thinking she couldn’t do well, but then cursed at her when they realised they had nothing to criticise.
‘This is all because she’s a woman, so they have nothing else but ridicule for her.’
Eventually, the level of mocking reached its apex because no one stopped them. On the contrary, they were all too eager to add to one another’s words. Nonetheless, nothing major occurred since Liloa had the support of the court. The Emperor graciously offered her a wing in his Imperial Palace when she left her hometown and moved to Sesbron. Rumours circulated that the Emperor was considering Liloa as a partner for his third son, Robero. The court mistakenly assumed that Liloa was riding at Lebrun for pleasure and recreation. The general sentiment was that once Liloa travelled to the battlefield, she would serve as a morale booster for the officers by carrying out protocols alongside Robero as the actual commander.
‘Given the intensity of the personal training and the effort that Liloa puts in Lebrun, that prediction is nothing short of insulting. But why is Liloa silently enduring it?’
The more Edgar looked at Liloa, the more curious he became.
‘Why did she choose LeBrun over other options, what does she want to accomplish as a soldier, what does she hope to achieve by enduring criticism and ridicule, or… What does she hope to accomplish in her life? That’s right. Actually, I’m most interested in that last one. What kind of life does someone who thinks like her, live?’
It has been Edgar’s practice to go to Lebrun’s library every day even before he met Liloa. Lebrun’s library, which was fully sponsored by the imperial family, was extensive, and Edgar discovered many old books that could no longer be obtained elsewhere. In particular, the information on looted goods during the conquest of the Northern Island of the Western Continent were recorded in detail, so he often brought servants to transcribe them.
Occasionally, there were those who polluted Edgar’s time in his treasure trove of sacred knowledge.
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(If you are reading this from other sites, that means this content is stolen without consent. Please support us by visiting our site.)
“…You can really see her from here?…”