Badge in Azure

Chapter 338: Jola's Tears (Part 2)

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Saleen was calculating furiously in his mind. At this moment, he was not just thinking about the weapons for the magic beast swordsmen, but he was also designing weapons for Sika, Nailisi, and the others.

Aini stared at Jola's sheath for a long time, but did not make any moves.

"This… Sir Aini." Jola's grade was already akin to a sorcerer in the realm of mages, but he did not dare act rashly in front of a death mage. In the eyes of normal people, a death mage was much more powerful than an elemental mage, and they also had many unimaginable skills. Jola had dared to challenge a mage, but he did not dare provoke a death mage.

At most, one would only die if they were defeated by an elemental mage. But if a death mage was angered, one could be transformed into a spirit. Even though such an action was insignificant to a death mage, it was an eternal torture which no one would want to experience.

"This sheath is not suitable for you." Aini finally opened his mouth.

"I know, but…"

"The energy within is overwhelmed with negative emotions, and you are a person who is innately positive. That's why you haven't been trying to advance your grade. After advancement, this weapon will be even more unsuitable for you."

Jola was aghast. He had not expected a mage to be able to deduce so many facts from just a weapon.

"Actually, this situation is not entirely unsalvageable."

"What is the solution?" Jola was completely entranced by Aini's demeanor. Aini looked at the sheath with a great deal of concentration, engrossed.

Aini lifted his eyelids and glanced at Jola. With his mind still on the sheath, he said, "Do you dare to trust me?"

"What's there to be afraid of?" Jola shrugged his shoulders, looking nonchalant.

"Very well, we shall begin now." As Aini spoke, he spit out the death flames from his mouth, then added materials which had been provided by Saleen into the death flames. Aini did not split the materials into any specific proportions, and the materials quickly formed the shape of a blade within the death flames. The shape of the blade was transforming continuously, with its final shape fitting Jola's sheath perfectly.

This blade was different from what Saleen was creating for the magic beast swordsmen. The blade which Aini made was entirely metal, and there was not even a spot for the wooden grip. The green death flames gave off a frigid air as they expanded in size, before finally engulfing Jola. Jola's fingers trembled slightly, but he did not put up any resistance.

Jola had chosen to trust Saleen, not Aini. Had Saleen wanted to deal with him, Saleen could have easily trampled him after freezing him, not to mention turning him into a death creature. At that point in time, Jola had no way of resisting.

Furthermore, the temptation from Aini was too overwhelming. Jola did not want to abandon the sheath, but if he used this sheath to make a weapon, his swordsmanship training would be affected.

The death flames fully enveloped Jola. They were cooling, unlike the pain which he expected.

The blade, which was in front of Aini, quivered in midair before sliding into that simple sheath, giving off a crisp sound. Jola's heart was also chilled. Jola placed his hand on the blade and pulled it out from the sheath, then noticed that there were more than forty marks on the blade.

Those marks represented the origin of his swordsmanship and the secrets inside his heart.

The blade remained soft as mud, with its shape fluctuating continuously. Jola held onto the blade in a daze, as he recalled his childhood.

The first half of his childhood had been filled with jubilance. His father had been a powerful grand swordmaster who served a duke. From a tender age, Jola had already lived in a wealthy environment. Also, he had matured at a young age. By the time Jola had learned to walk, he had already learned how to wield a sword.

This continued until one day, the duke's successor was killed after provoking a mage. Jola's father was severely berated because he failed to protect the successor. Thereafter, Jola's father fell into a ploy and was killed.

Jola clearly remembered that his father still had enough power to retaliate after consuming the poisoned wine, but his father simply clutched onto the sword without pulling it out. His father's powers had diffused into the sheath. Those marks, more than forty of them, were the essence of his father's swordsmanship.

The furious duke tore his father's body into pieces and threw the sword into a lake. Young Jola went into hiding and managed to avoid being captured. Later on, he went to the bottom of the lake to retrieve his father's sword, but realized that the sword had disintegrated, leaving behind only a sheath which was brimming with grief and indignation.

This world was unfair. As the duke did not dare to trifle with the mage, he had vented his fury on Jola's father.

Jola thus began his life on the run, and his days were extremely tough. Back then, he was but eight years old. Jola worked as a mercenary, a bandit, a bodyguard, and a hitman. He had also made a living in a casino before, until he met his swordsmanship teacher.

Jola had not intended to recall all these memories from his past. But at this moment, as he was engulfed within Aini's death flames, all these memories came flooding back in a clear and picturesque manner.

"I just want to… live happily, Father…"

Jola held onto the blade as tears ran down his cheeks uncontrollably, hitting the blade. The pure tears were vaporized and permeated the blade.

"Then, go ahead and live happily." Aini took the blade from Jola's hand. Those marks had faded away, forming strange magic patterns which spread throughout the blade.

A few drops of tears were already enough to make the blade solidify.

This longsword was white like snow, with hints of crystal. Between those mesmerizing magic patterns, there were lines which resembled streaks of tears. These streaks followed the ridge of the sword, flowing all the way to the tip of the sword.

"Done." Aini's voice caused Jola to snap out of his trance, then Jola wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes.

"That's it?"

"There are still some more things which need to be completed by Saleen, I am not suited to do it." Aini placed the longsword on the ground. On the handguard of this longsword were unique death patterns.

"Jola, quickly thank Mage Aini." Saleen stopped his own refinement process and spoke.

Jola was doubtful and fuming. He did not know what the death mage had done to evoke those memories which he did not want to recall. Jola felt very embarrassed that he had cried in front of two other men.

"This is heart alchemy, which is very taxing. The blade symbolizes the past while the hilt symbolizes the present. You have to grip the present so that you won't be haunted by your past, and use the sword to seize the future."

Saleen recited these words from a magic book, but they were very representative of Jola at this moment.

Jola was astonished. On the surface, he might have been happy-go-lucky, but he had actually not forgotten his past. Even if he went to assassinate that duke right now, he would still be unable to shake off that childhood trauma.

What's the point of being loyal? In the end, what did Father get in return? He never understood why his father had not bothered retaliating. Father should have tried to perish together with other people since he knew that he was going to die anyway.

Later on, Jola understood why. After his father's death, the duke had not tried to locate him. Had his father killed the duke, the duke's family would have used all their means to search for him, in order to exterminate his bloodline.

Perhaps the duke was regretful. He regretted killing a loyal subordinate, but he would never get back his son.

"Sir Aini, thank you so much." Jola stood upright. Even in front of Emperor Jupiter, he had never been so well-behaved before.

"You don't have to thank me, Saleen asked me to do it. I just tried to make it perfect for you," Aini answered weakly. Earlier on, he had used the shortest amount of time to refine the weapon which he was proudest of, and that process had exhausted nearly all of his strength.

"I need to rest. You need to protect these two. Take this sword." Aini handed the sword over the Jola.

"Sir Aini, please bestow a name on this sword."

"Is that the practice in Cloudflow?" Aini's voice was cold, the corner of his mouth twitching. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Let's call it Tears then. It doesn't mean that a man is strong if he never cries."

"Of course, as you wish."

Aini waved his hand and walked to the corner of the tent. Then, he opened a sleeping bag and snuggled in.

"Jola, the hilt still needs more refinement. I will need more time for this and will do it after we return." After Saleen finished talking, he turned away and continued refining the weapons for the four magic beast swordsmen.

Jola placed Tears back into the sheath and embraced it. Tears was like his blood. Jola was even aware of those magic patterns inside it.

Most importantly, the magic patterns and the marks left behind by his father were congruent. From this moment on, whenever he employed his family's swordsmanship, he would no longer be affected by the grief and despair found within the sheath. All these emotions would be carried by Tears. This was a genuine magic weapon which could accompany Jola for the rest of his life.

Saleen did not suffer as much as Aini during the refining process. For every machete he refined, Saleen would meditate once, regaining his magic chords and mental strength. Before daybreak, the four machetes had been completed. Saleen took out the bloodcherry wood and smelted it into the hilt, fusing them into one.

In Saleen's eyes, these four machetes were still very crude, inferior compared to the club which Faerun had refined for Sika. Based on the materials used, the two weapons were already incomparable. However, Saleen had spent too little time on them and had not set more magic arrays inside the machetes. He had simply used premium materials to make the machetes razor-sharp.

There was still much room for improvement in these four machetes. Once Saleen understood the ins and outs of the magic beast swordsmen, he would alter the weapons once more to fit them perfectly.

Aini was snuggled in the sleeping bag, but he was not sleeping. Even though he had consumed a huge amount of his mental strength this time around, he had also gained a lot. This round of utilizing heart alchemy might have caused Aini's mental strength to be greatly depleted, but it had actually become purer.

At the same time, Aini's heart had been cleansed in the process. Within that sheath, Aini felt a father's love, causing him to miss his parents dearly. Aini might have been callous, but he was not cold-blooded. However, he had never appreciated the things his parents had done for him in the past.

This time around, Aini finally understood. He decided that the moment he returned to the city base, he would bring his parents over. If the family did not accede, Aini would turn hostile. With Saleen around, Aini would be able to accomplish many things which had seemed insurmountable in the past.

The chatter outside the tent grew increasingly louder. Under the coercion by Saleen, the pirates woke up early and washed up, now mindful of their personal hygiene. The four magic beast swordsmen had come over early in the morning and waited outside of the tent.

Saleen retracted his water flames and sighed secretly as he reviewed the machetes repeatedly. He had spent too little time learning alchemy. The materials of these four weapons were adequate for producing divine weapons. Yet, in his hands, he had only managed to produce four high-grade magic weapons.

Even with such an achievement, Saleen felt embarrassed signing his name on the weapons!