|Author: Tensei Mikami||Original Source: Syosetu||Word Count: 2269 characters|
|Translator: Jiro||English Source: Re:Library||Word Count: 807|
The sword traced a beautiful arc, resembling a flowing motion. Leaving behind a silvery trail, the mold was slowly carved by Seletina’s hand.
She breathed sharply, deeply, and exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes and manipulated her sword as she saw fit, carrying herself with determined steps.
Silence fell upon her as she kept a clear mind. Her movements flowed gracefully, displaying beauty. She moved her body and her sword as she pleased, yet there were no signs of her gasping for air, and no sounds of the rustling of her clothes.
The only sound in the garden was the spring breeze caressing the brightly colored flowers. It was almost as if one was watching a performance. Sitting on a bench in the garden, Eleanor was captivated by Seletina’s performance.
Seletina’s movements were not flashy by any means. They were not movements that would make one’s eyes widen with surprise. The sword dance resembled a floating cloud, slowly shimmering across the spring sky. Yet Eleanor was simply spellbound by it.
Even though she lacked knowledge about swords, she was completely frozen still by Seletina’s performance.
Seletina’s mind was projected onto the sword, and her body moved exactly as she imagined. Seletina’s mind was like a completely still lake.
It was infused with the essence of the talents developed by a man who had patiently trained and engaged in actual combat, remaining modest while exercising prudence, and triumphantly overcoming numerous obstacles while constantly polishing his sword skills.
Seletina skillfully layered the images. She aimed to regain even a fraction of the strength she had once possessed.
There were several abilities that Orthus possessed, which Seletina lacked. One of them was the overwhelming power to crush a dragon’s head through its robust scales.
Orthus had the agility to move swiftly, as if flying ahead of others, while wearing armor that would take three adults to carry. He also had the courage to remain composed even at the brink of death.
Seletina lacked all of those. She had a slender and sickly body. Her spirit was such that it would shake just at the sight of an enemy. This had become evident during her fight with the Defiler of Pride and Wisdom. The fear she had experienced back then was something she’d never experienced in her previous life.
Weak. Seletina was weak.
However, there had to be something. Something that only Seletina could perform. Something that would be impossible for Orthus.
With a heightened sense of awareness, Seletina danced and wielded her sword, executing precise strikes from the hilt to the tip.
“I can’t find it…”
Taking a small breath, Seletina slowly lowered her sword. She opened her eyes, adorned with long eyelashes, and gazed up at the sky.
Seletina observed the leisurely movement of clouds, drifting from right to left, their hue mirroring the blue of her eyes.
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Squinting slightly, Seletina smoothly sheathed her sword, producing a high-pitched sound that shattered the silence.
I can’t find it…
Seletina couldn’t find that something.
“What can’t you find?”
Eleanor, sitting on the bench, posed a reasonable question.
“The way for me to become strong.”
“What are you saying? You’re already plenty strong, Lady Seletina.”
“I wonder about that.”
With her hips lowered and her right hand placed over her treasured sword’s sheath, Seletina wrapped her hand around the hilt, starting from the little finger.
After a brief pause, Seletina swiftly sliced through the sky with a dazzling motion.
Elyutinias neighed loudly.
Silver sparks scattered, filling the surroundings.
An ordinary person, or even someone with some sword training, would perceive her sword’s movement as a mere flash. If one blinked, it might even seem like a skipped frame. But even so, “……”
For Seletina, it was but a normal slash. She bit her lower lip, realizing her own vulnerability.
Orthus is strong. He was strong. This wasn’t all he had. I should be able to become stronger.
Abruptly, Seletina found herself touching the crest on her neck. It had become a habit of hers in the past few days.
She didn’t hold any affection for Dicentra. Naturally, the crest would by no means become something that would sway Seletina’s heart. However, it was undeniable that it now served as a source of strength, bringing a sense of joy to Seletina
Seletina’s lips formed a thin line.
This is surely something I shouldn’t rely on. After all it was left by that detestable witch… Yet, still… I guess it’s better to lean on this crest than endure the pain of seeing innocent ones suffer due to my weakness. I want to meet you already.
Seletina gazed at the sky, the image of Imitia forming in her mind.
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Will she accept me the way I am now? This weak and powerless.
Tightly gripping her treasured sword, Seletina let out a sarcastic smile.