Bastard Swordsman Chapter 1

Here’s the WN translation as promised from the donations goals raised on August 16th. The remaining novel translation will be posted in this site in September. You can read ahead by joining the Ko-Fi membership or, if you prefer, accelerate chapter releases by donating.


The Half-assed Sword

Compared to a short sword, it’s a bit longer and more difficult to wield nimbly.

Against a longsword, its reach is somewhat lacking, often proving disadvantageous in combat.

The bastard sword has an in-between length.

In my previous world there was a phrase “too short for a cloak, too long for a jacket”, which fits this weapon perfectly.

That said, a sword is still a sword, so it’s not like they’re never used in society. But I don’t hear of any swordfighting styles that specialize in them. At least, militaries definitely don’t adopt them.

Even so, I’m rather fond of swords with this somewhat half-assed length.

If you’re willing to compromise on the inconvenience of handling and shortened reach, it’s not impossible to accommodate. Ignoring the “poor” side of jack of all trades and master of none, they can be used in a variety of ways.

I first encountered my beloved bastard sword at a sketchy weapon shop.

It was rather roughly shoved in a crate near the entrance, and I bought it in part because it was so cheap.

At the time of purchase it didn’t even have a proper sheath, so I had to rig things up myself, making it not as cheap a bargain as being sold at a discount would imply. But looking back now, it’s a fond memory.

“Alrighty then~”

“Gugya!”

The bastard sword spun and deeply slashed the goblin’s chest.

That’s three down. One more remains, but I cut its leg so it will soon bleed out.

“Giii…”

“Sorry, nothing personal, just business. Go ahead and die for my pay.”

The request was to exterminate a rogue goblin warband that appeared in the countryside.

Their apparent leader, a slightly larger goblin, is rolling over there. There may be other squads, but killing the leader should essentially complete the request.

The tough folks in this world can easily kill goblins themselves, even ordinary villagers who do farmwork.

“Namu amida butsu.”

I thrust my bastard sword into the last one’s throat, stopping its breath.

Afterwards, I cut off their disgusting noses and bag them. This proves I killed them. I wonder why it’s not their ears every time… Goblin noses reek something awful but…

“Ew, snot got on it.”

I stab my bastard sword, dirtied with blood, towards the goblin’s heart again to wash it in more blood. I’d choose their blood over snot any day, that’s how much I hate goblin snot.

I’ll wash it in the river later anyway, but it is my beloved weapon.

“…Phew. This should meet my contribution quota for the month. I’ll just gather some stuff afterwards and head home.”

YOU ARE READING STOLEN TRANSLATION. READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM

Then I harvested potentially valuable wild herbs and medicinal plants before washing my equipment in the river and starting my walk home.

Two hours on foot is no leisurely stroll, but still considered “close by” in this world.

Being accustomed to that sense myself is probably a sign I’ve adapted decently well.

“Exterminating rogue goblins in the countryside, correct? The proof of subjugation tags are… Yes, four including the leader should warrant an A rank evaluation, no problem. Good work, Mongrel.”

“Yeah.”

Returning to the guild, I exchange the proof of subjugation parts for tags at processing, then turn them in at reception.

The reward I get is a meager sum of money and contribution points. For guild jobs, goblin extermination is the prime example of unprofitable work. However, so people don’t only take lucrative jobs, low paying tasks like this are set up to give high contribution.

By earning these contribution points, guild members like me can receive various perks and preferential treatment. Above all, regularly stockpiling contribution saves me from being deployed on dangerous large-scale missions that come up occasionally. It’s a benefit I absolutely can’t overlook if I want to live long.

“Still, solo subjugating four at once… Mongrel, shouldn’t you take the promotion exam soon?”

“No thanks. That’ll just increase the scary missions.”

The receptionist and other guild folks are always nudging me to take a promotion exam.

Right now I’m Bronze rank. They say reaching Silver will let me take on more rewarding work, which does sound nice.

But that’s a pain in its own way too. The missions get more dangerous, and annoying obligations crop up.

For a lazy life, staying Bronze is optimal.

“…Well, I won’t force you. Off to the bar again after this?”

“Of course. Mireille, want to join me for a drink? I’ll treat you to one.”

“I still have work remaining, so…”

“Tch, you’re no fun.”

An average face, half-assed work ethic, no ambition.

It’s no wonder girls like her don’t fawn over guys like me.

Especially since she’s a sought after elite receptionist at the guild.

But there’s a reassurance to be routinely rejected like this too, you know.

“Drinking time~ Drinking time~”

“Oh Mongrel, you finished work?”

“Yo, Barlgar! Earning contribution points. Gave some goblins a little pat.”

“Good work. The usual spot, right? Let’s drink together.”

“You treating?”

“As if I could afford to! I’m paying my own tab.”

This bearded uncle is Barlgar.

A guildsman with the equally unimpressive gear of a small shield and short spear.

However, belying his plain visuals, his skill is top class. Through steady, plain fighting, he’s been an active mid-ranked Silver veteran for many years.

When I first arrived, he taught me a lot of basics. You could say he’s like an older brother to me in this world.

We’re both now sad, unmarried old men who occasionally meet up to drink.

“What’s with you still using that bastard sword, Mongrel?”

“Got a problem with it? I’ll keep using it ’til it breaks.”

“No problem, just…it’s heavy for one hand but light for two hands. A pain to use, right?”

“If you get used to it, it doesn’t bother you. I quite like it, the half-assedness and all.”

“The hell’s that mean?”

Alright, beer and skewers will lead me to victory today!

I wonder what work I should do tomorrow…



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