I’m probably an orphan...I guess. Most likely, Elrica added to the teacher’s words in her mind. She actually didn’t know the truth herself.
During the great war, a plan had been developed to manufacture a Saint in order to combat the incoming threats, but the church forces at the time had been so focused on defeating their greatest potential enemy—the Great Demon King—that they didn’t have time to worry about what consequences their actions might have. So, they’d gathered up talented people, using both legal and illegal methods. Elrica had been among those people. However, the process of manufacturing her into a Saint had been so riddled with problems that all related documents had been erased, so she knew nothing about her own birth. Therefore, it might even be possible, in the worst-case scenario, that she was an artificial human created through forbidden techniques.
“We have no definite information on her abilities either,” the teacher continued. “The main theory is that she used the light’s divine protection to defend the Hero’s party, but that is also pure speculation.”
I-It’s actually a cross between light-annihilation magic, some forbidden techniques, and various other things... Elrica once again added in her head, though there was of course no way she could say any of that out loud.
Elrica possessed magic that could unfailingly eradicate enemies that lacked resistance to the power of light, but she’d also mastered some techniques that people typically shouldn’t learn, so for the church, she was someone who couldn’t be allowed on the forefront of history. And since the Hero’s party had been constantly charging straight into the deepest parts of the enemy lines, there had been virtually no opportunities for other people to see Elrica’s power in action. As a result, now that all of the church leaders and other authorities involved with Elrica at the time had passed away, the truth had been buried deep in the darkness.
“On the other hand, we know that Ferd the Hero was the third son of a rural family, so his origins are clear.”
Well, I never hid that fact. Meanwhile, Ferd was calm as he listened to the teacher.
Ferd’s roots weren’t something he’d felt any need to hide, so whenever he’d been asked where he was from during the war, he’d replied with the truth. And so, it had been recorded in history correctly. However, even if the records were accurate, how future generations would react to them was a different matter altogether.
“I have a question,” a student asked.
“Go ahead,” the teacher replied.
“It seems that there’s no doubt that Ferd the Hero came from a rural area, but that makes it all the more unclear how he came into possession of enough power to save the world. Was he perhaps royalty...or did he have the blood of the gods running in his veins?”
“Hmm. That’s not entirely impossible.”
No, it actually is. In his mind, Ferd flatly rejected the conversation between student and teacher. There was nothing in his family that would support a royal hypothesis, and there was nothing that suggested blood ties with the gods either, so the idea really was impossible—at least, from the perspective of Ferd, the third son of a rural family.
“Perhaps Ferd the Hero didn’t know himself, but his parents and eldest brother did,” the teacher suggested.
Wha— Ferd went wide-eyed. The problem was that if the teacher’s theory was framed as a secret passed down to the oldest son, Ferd would have no way to refute it, having been the youngest. Furthermore, there were indeed cases of such secrets being passed down to only the eldest son.
C-Come to think of it... Ferd unconsciously looked toward Max next to him. Since Max wasn’t the eldest son, he hadn’t inherited the secrets of the Rin Kingdom, though he also carried a major secret of his own: He was the younger twin of the nation’s former king. It was impossible to know what kind of secrets could be lurking anywhere, at any time.
No, no, I’m just overthinking it. My older brothers and father were just ordinary people. Ferd, who was starting to grow confused, remembered who his blood relatives were and regained his composure.
Ferd really didn’t have any connection whatsoever to the gods. He’d just been an anomaly that suddenly sparkled in a world full of darkness. However, it wasn’t very convincing that someone without a special background would have the strength necessary to save the world. As such, the generations after the war had searched for a satisfying explanation, but since there was no evidence to completely disprove Ferd’s side of the story, the situation had ended up rather strange. Unfortunately, that was just the way that it went with most legends.
“Now, it’s believed that Elrica the Saint was the last addition to the Hero’s party. The reason seems to be that the church forces were determining whether or not the Hero was worthy to be entrusted with the Saint,” the teacher continued.
Oh dear...
A lot was going on, wasn’t it?
The Hero and Saint in question currently had indescribable expressions.
The Hero had been fighting for the survival of the world, not for the gods. Therefore, divine will had been a secondary or even tertiary concern to him, and he’d had a tricky relationship with any religious groups that prioritized their god’s will above all else; he hadn’t been on such bad terms with them that they’d try to kill him or vice versa, but they hadn’t exactly been friendly either. Considering their backgrounds, there had been some disagreement during the great war over whether or not Elrica should be sent to the Hero’s party.
We should have been more careful picking which class to observe... After now having been saddled with listening to people discussing so many aspects of his life from seventy years ago, Ferd reflected on his poor judgment, feeling exhausted.
I guess I won’t say this was fun later on. Max, covering his grin with his hand, was the only one enjoying the lesson.
And the class wasn’t over yet.
“Next, who here can tell me about the Hero’s weapon?” the teacher asked.
“I can. There is much mystery surrounding the weapons of all members of the Hero’s party, including the Hero’s sword, and even after the war, we still don’t have a clear answer. Some say it was the Midnight Sky Sword of Wolf, the War God, while others claim it was the Sword of Rebirth, a sacred treasure created by an ancient god. There are also many theories about his shield, such as it being a stone tablet engraved with the blueprints of all creation.”
What? What? Ferd was so baffled by what the teacher and student were talking about that he just kept repeating the same word in his mind.
Oh no. I have to hold back. If I laugh here, it’ll be suspicious. But it might be impossible! Max was on the verge of losing his composure and bursting out laughing at the frozen Ferd, but he somehow managed to make it through by tightening up his abdominal muscles and steeling his own will.
An ancient sword and shield? It was nothing near that crazy! Ferd shouted in his mind. He wanted to speak the truth that all of his friends knew, but unfortunately, he was just an old man observing a class at the moment, not Ferd the Hero.
“Similarly, there is not much known about the staff belonging to Elrica, the Saint. There is a theory that it’s made out of a branch of the tree that first sprouted back during the creation of the world, but nothing can be said for certain.”
“Indeed. There is a lot of mystery around both the Hero and Saint. The only credible piece of information regarding the weapons of the Hero’s party is that the Blademaster most likely possessed one of the Seven Rainbow Katanas.”
Thank goodness they switched topics... Just when it seemed Elrica was about to become the subject of the lesson, she was relieved to see them move on to Sazaki instead.
“However, we can’t assert this as a fact either. Do you know why?” the teacher asked.
“Because it’s said that he swung his katana with such speed that no one could see the blade,” the student answered.
“Precisely. The color of the Blademaster’s katana isn’t recorded even in Greer’s documents.”
“But is it really possible for him to be so fast that no one ever saw the blade?”
“Hmm...”
Oh, it’s possible all right... Max commented mentally as he listened to the lesson. There were many scenes from the great war he’d never forget, but among them were those of monstrosities trying to move without realizing that Sazaki had already cut through them before they perished on the spot. He remembered the looks on the faces of intelligent enemies who had tried to see through some nonexistent trick they believed must exist to Sazaki’s speed; however, he was simply fast. In the end, they’d been left in despair, only realizing the simple logic behind it all right before their deaths.
“In any case, even if it isn’t one of the Seven Rainbow Katanas, it’s undoubtedly a treasured sword of some kind.”
A treasured sword, huh? So they just assumed. Well, no one would imagine that one of the world’s saviors wields a sinister, bewitched sword. Max, who had been listening to the teacher, knew that Sazaki’s sword was far from holy or treasured.
Sazaki guaranteed that if I tried holding it, it would fly straight at my neck. Ferd also knew that very well.
The katana at Sazaki’s waist wished for a swordsman who could master its use. To put it bluntly, Ferd, someone who just swung his sword around, was the kind of person whom that bewitched sword hated the most. Therefore, if Ferd were to wield Sazaki’s katana, all anyone would get to witness would be this so-called “treasured” blade aiming for the Hero’s life.