NOVEL NEXT Ch. 193
Chapter 193: Sword for Life (2)
“What kind of nonsense…”
Sheratiya Viyan, about to scold Harang again for his nonsense, closed her mouth.
His expression was too serious.
It carried a desperation beyond even when he’d asked for help interpreting the Aura Cultivation Method.
It almost felt like he was lost. It was a far cry from the usual Harang she knew.
‘What’s going on?’
Sheratiya thought with a slightly hurt expression.
To her, Harang was an extraordinary person unmatched by anyone. His victory at the Seton Swordsmanship Festival in his early 20s and rescuing Daereon from Red Magician’s minions proved it. Some enthusiasts firmly believed Harang would reach the Master realm within 20 years and become the continent’s strongest within 50.
‘But Harang is always anxious. Always restless. As if someone’s chasing him.’
That’s why he never rests.
He never settles or relaxes.
Seeing him pour his all into swordsmanship as always made her wish he’d spare even a fraction of that devotion for her, but his serious and desperate demeanor made it impossible to voice such thoughts.
‘But today, I want to be a bit braver.’
Sheratiya’s expression hardened.
She was a merchant, and trading was a merchant’s foundation.
Give and take.
If she gave something, shouldn’t she receive something in return?
With that thought, she looked straight at Harang.
As Harang felt a slight pressure from her gaze, Sheratiya slowly spoke.
“Who are you fighting?”
“……What?”
“I’m asking who you’re fighting. To make someone as strong as you this anxious… how powerful are they? A Master?”
“…….”
“Or someone even stronger?”
“That’s…”
Harang, at a loss for words, looked at Sheratiya’s face.
Her expression was stubbornly resolute.
He was flustered. When she made that face, he couldn’t get what he wanted unless he gave her what she wanted.
But telling Sheratiya about the current situation was highly dangerous.
The village.
Red Magician.
Black Hydra.
The Godok and the numerous enemies surrounding him were far too great a trial for an ordinary merchant’s daughter to handle.
“……No answer? Then I’m leaving.”
With Harang hesitating, Sheratiya Viyan turned away without lingering.
She passed the fountain in the plaza, moving farther away little by little. Harang could only stare blankly.
…No.
That wasn’t true.
The old Harang might have let her disappear into the crowd, oblivious to the mood.
But not now.
Why?
He didn’t know why, but aside from seeking answers to his question, the thought that he couldn’t let her go overwhelmed him instantly.
Step, step.
He quickly moved forward.
Grab—
He caught her hand as she moved away.
Sheratiya Viyan turned back with slightly surprised eyes.
Harang smiled awkwardly and said:
“Oh, sorry. Did I grab too hard?”
“……No. That’s not why.”
“Then…”
“It’s just… this is a bit unexpected?”
With a soft chuckle, she looked up at Harang.
Her demeanor felt both familiar and different, making Harang’s mind go slightly blank.
‘I need to say something.’
Yes.
He needed to say something.
He couldn’t tell her everything, but watching Sheratiya leave in disappointment wasn’t what he wanted either.
He had to do something.
He had to do something.
Something…
“Pfft.”
At that moment,
Sheratiya burst into laughter again.
Harang looked at her with a dumbfounded expression, and as she laughed once more, she waved her hand and said:
“Alright, alright. Why am I trying to make a deal with a guy like this…”
“What? What do you mean…”
“It’s nothing. Just, seeing you agonize so intensely was kind of funny.”
“…….”
“But let me ask one thing. You’re keeping quiet because you’re thinking of me, right?”
Sheratiya asked, and Harang nodded immediately.
“That’s right. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.”
“Okay, that’s enough. But when the time comes that it’s okay to talk, tell me first. No matter if it takes hours or a whole day, tell me everything.”
“…….”
“Got it?”
With a piercing gaze, Sheratiya pressed Harang.
Her expression wasn’t much different from her usual sharp and intense demeanor, but to Harang, it felt slightly different now.
He couldn’t put it into words. Harang was terribly awkward at describing such feelings.
But…
“……Got it.”
It wasn’t a bad feeling.
Nodding with a serious expression, Harang spoke again in a firm tone:
“When it’s all over, I’ll tell you first, Lady Sheratiya. All the things I couldn’t say until now.”
“Haha, good. I’m the first, huh?”
Seemingly pleased by Harang’s words, Sheratiya responded with a bright smile.
To keep up with her butterfly-like movements, Harang stepped forward little by little, realizing then that he was still holding her hand.
‘……No need to let go, right?’
Nodding slightly so others wouldn’t notice, he moved to Sheratiya’s side, matching her pace.
As they began to act like a couple for the first time since their contract relationship, some merchants whispered among themselves.
But neither cared.
The sharp-witted Sheratiya Viyan and the perceptive Harang walked as if they were the only two on Marzen’s streets, gazing only at each other.
After strolling around Marzen’s Outer District, they returned to the central plaza and sat side by side on a bench, each holding a cool drink to beat the summer heat.
At that moment,
Sheratiya Viyan spoke, delivering an answer long delayed.
“I don’t really agree that negative emotions are more intense and profound than positive ones.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well…”
Because when fused into swordsmanship, the difference was clear.
The rage sparked by someone’s sacrifice.
The Aura born from self-loathing was more intense, hotter. Every time his strikes, like pouring lava, met an enemy, they faltered without exception.
In contrast, positive emotions were hard to integrate into swordsmanship from the start.
It wasn’t that they didn’t fit.
They lacked stimulation.
To be honest, negative emotions felt far more suitable for producing sufficient power.
“Honestly, isn’t it true? The joy of finding one Silver on the street is far less than the irritation and anger of losing one Silver. Hearing your lifespan increased by 10 years might make you moderately happy, but hearing it decreased by 10 years would make you wail like the world’s collapsing.”
“Hm, that’s true.”
“That’s my point. Negative emotions, the feelings from loss and sacrifice… they feel much more intense to me. Stupidly so.”
“…….”
“So it’s hard. I wonder if it’s possible to fuse positive emotions into swordsmanship in a short time.”
Harang vented his frustrations.
To be honest, he envied those from noble families or privileged environments who trained with swords. They’d been exposed to positive emotions in good settings for a long time, likely allowing them to wield richer emotional power than him.
‘Isn’t that why Philip Portville or the Head of the Seton Swordsmanship Hall could infuse pride from their family or hall into their swordsmanship?’
Of course, that didn’t apply to Harang.
He despised his village origins to an extreme degree.
That said, it wasn’t like he had no positive experiences.
From the moment he left the village, everything was fun, novel, and positive. Especially the bonds and memories formed in Marzen were invaluable. He felt he could dedicate his entire life to them.
‘But… despite those feelings, I couldn’t fuse them into my swordsmanship.’
Harang attributed this to insufficient time.
If more years passed, if his love for Marzen deepened, if his friendships grew stronger… wouldn’t things be different then?
That was his thought.
‘……But I can’t wait that long.’
Harang’s expression darkened.
He was anxious.
Restless.
The insecurities he’d forcibly ignored felt like they could appear at any moment and take everything away. The foolish him would only gain the desired power after losing precious things, consumed by self-loathing and rage. Imagining such an unfortunate future, anxiety began to claw at his chest, making his breathing rapid.
Heart Demon.
A rare affliction of the mind that struck swordsmen on the verge of enlightenment, its sharp fangs gleaming as it prepared to tear into Harang.
Slap—!
“……?”
“Snap out of it.”
Sheratiya Viyan, who had been quietly watching Harang, suddenly raised her hand and slapped his cheek.
It stung quite a bit. Though he didn’t see it, Harang figured a red handprint must be blooming on his cheek as he asked:
“What was that for?”
“You weren’t snapping out of it.”
“…….”
“And I was a bit annoyed.”
“Annoyed about what?”
Harang said with a hint of protest.
Of course, he didn’t actually hold any resentment toward Sheratiya. She was one of the precious bonds in his life, after all.
‘And I really wasn’t snapping out of it.’
It felt awkward to admit after being slapped, but his mind did feel clearer.
But that wasn’t the important part.
The words flowing from Sheratiya’s mouth.
The mix of worry, concern, regret, and gratitude directed at him began to slowly melt into Harang’s heart.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
“Positive emotions can be shared.”
“What?”
“Love, trust, friendship. And other things. Those emotions… they don’t end with you pouring them out to someone. The recipient cherishes them and, when you need it, returns them twofold.”
“…….”
“Don’t just try to feel the emotions within you. If you embrace the emotions those around you send your way… I believe positive emotions won’t lose to negative ones at all.”