After sparring with Encrid time and again, Rem had a thought.

'Far too crude.'

Having taught Encrid, Rem knew his captain did not change easily. More precisely, whenever he watched the man, he seemed to have reached his limit. That remained true even now that he was a knight. He seemed to have spent and exhausted everything he had, then stopped.

That made it remarkable that he had come this far at all. Would he stop here, then? Surely not.

'But can this change, too?'

Though spells had been the foundation of his own ascent, Rem understood what a knight was. That was why he judged Encrid's current Will to be terribly blunt. Could that bluntness become sharp again?

'It won't be easy.'

Not that the man would give up over that, but something else nagged at him.

'Is he satisfied?'

Encrid's attitude seemed to have changed, if only a little. He had always been a man who yearned for more. Was that still true? Was his yearning, that flame of desire, still burning as grandly and beautifully as before? His eyes still looked straight ahead, unwavering. But could Rem say his yearning was the same? Truly?

Rem thought not.

It was impressive that he had not become intoxicated by his sense of omnipotence. So was the Will welling up like a spring that never ran dry. But that was not everything. Knighthood did not end with awakening Will. It began with learning to wield it.

Rem did not bother putting that into words. It was not something words could teach. Instead, he told him with his axe, facing him again and again. What came next was up to Encrid himself.

Ragna saw much the same thing as Rem, though he did not examine it as closely.

'Sluggish.'

He looked like a man walking when he could run. Why? It was simply a feeling. Coming from a genius and a knight, that feeling was not meaningless.

But what was there to say? What did someone who had lost his way need? The determination to find it. With that determination, he would reach his destination somehow. But if it cooled? He would remain lost forever. To Ragna, Encrid now looked like a lost child.

Jaxon saw something similar.

"Are you satisfied, by any chance?"

He even asked, but Encrid merely blinked his blue eyes.

"With what?"

Did he not know that knighthood was not the end? No, he knew. The diligence with which he maintained his daily training even after becoming a knight proved it. Then why?

'Am I imagining it, or does his focus seem a little scattered?'

Or was Jaxon simply expecting too much?

"Never mind."

"If you're asking whether I'm satisfied now that I'm a knight, no."

Becoming a knight had put him on roughly equal footing with his men. He had reached the moment he had dreamed of. Did that mean he was satisfied? Encrid said it did not.

"Is that so?"

Jaxon let the matter pass without fuss. The path he had taken differed from the usual road to knighthood. Things other knights could do easily might be difficult for him. In return, he could do things they could not.

To put it more simply, he would lose if he fought Encrid head-on now. A fight to the death would be a different matter, but in a straightforward spar, that would be the outcome. On the other hand, if asked whether he could kill him...

'I could.'

In purely technical terms, yes.

He was different from ordinary knights. There was no need for hasty advice. He simply had a bad feeling. Normally, Jaxon would not ignore such a feeling, but this was Encrid. He would manage somehow. He would astonish Jaxon again.

It was trust. Their shared experiences had given Jaxon faith in him, so he left him be.

Audin prayed as he watched Encrid.

'Father, have You ordained Brother Captain's end? I believe Your words that no one's fate is predetermined, Father and Lord.'

He felt he could not step forward while his body remained bound. What words could not convey had to be taught physically, but his present circumstances made that difficult. For these reasons, Audin said nothing in particular either. He, too, had faith in Encrid.

"He hasn't lost his discipline, yet something is strange."

Luagarne, with her talent-reading eyes, also offered a comment. Encrid still spent his days sparring and training, yet this was how those around him saw him.

And no one said anything to him. Words would change nothing. Of course, if it seemed he would stop there for good, they would do something. For now, at least, it was time to watch. They all agreed on that.

* * *

Aker was a sword into which a knight had placed his thoughts.

-Why was a thought-form like me created? Even I don't know. I simply awaken when certain conditions are met.

When the sword vibrated, its meaning reached his mind. It amazed him every time. And that was all. Amazing, but there was nothing much to learn from it. The sword's consciousness served so little purpose that he wondered why anyone had put it there.

It might have been different if that consciousness let it cast magic on its own. Instead, it said that now it had awakened, all that remained was for the determination residing in the sword to disperse.

'For something with such demanding conditions, it doesn't know much, does it? Was there any reason to make a sword like this?'

There were three conditions for Aker to awaken.

First, learn the swordsmanship created by the knight Aker.

Second, awaken Will.

Third, establish definite ownership of the sword.

'Who judges those conditions?'

For instance, how did it know he had learned the swordsmanship? When he asked, he did receive an answer.

-I recognize it when you wield me. As for awakening Will, an influx of Will is what sustains this sword in the first place. You say the blade has chipped recently, and you felt it losing strength? That couldn't be helped. I consume no Will while asleep, but waking incompletely must have consumed the Will stored in the blade. I'll sustain myself on what you supply for a while, but you should consider this sword near the end of its life already.

A month at most. That was how long the thought-form called Aker would remain awake. Yet he expressed no regret. A thought-form was only a thought-form. He did not fear his own dissolution, accepting it as the natural course of things.

Encrid accepted that as well and moved on to his next question. It concerned the conditions. What about awakening Will, then? And ownership?

-Your Will has reached knight-level, so you should know. You can continuously use willpower even while doing nothing. That affects the weapon you're holding, too. Ownership was defined by rough treatment of the blade. In other words, damaging part of it counts as ownership.

As a rule, Aker answered his questions faithfully. What was a thought-form? A mass composed solely of thought, essentially. Aker was part of the determination that the knight Aker, hailed as a hero of a past generation, had left in his imprinted weapon. That determination had originally been left behind to teach.

-Being good with a blade isn't enough. What you need is tactics—hey, where did you learn that?

But everything he tried to teach was already engraved in Encrid's bones: lessons from Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, and Audin, from wandering the continent, and, more recently, from Luagarne.

The thought-form Aker had meant to teach him not to forget the essentials simply because he had become a knight. But Encrid was a man who had clawed his way up from the bottom. The use of Will had not made him neglect his fundamentals.

-You are diligent.

He rose in the morning to practice the Isolation Technique, a method of training the muscles in finely divided groups, and the striking method, a technique for working with ironclad. Then he stretched and loosened each muscle before training again.

Starting with the fundamentals of handling a sword, he practiced all manner of things. There hardly seemed to be enough hours in the day. Even the thought-form found it tedious to watch, but Encrid enjoyed it. Amid all this, he met those visitors to his territory who required his attention, and read and wrote letters.

Now he was heading to the market at the city's heart. More precisely, to a smithy on its outskirts. The hilt of his gladius had loosened, and he wanted to have Aker tended to if possible, as well as acquire a few daggers.

'Should I get some armor, too?'

It was not a bad idea. Encrid walked slowly. There was no hurry.

"Shall I come with you?"

Sinar had asked as he was leaving, but he had declined. Every so often, he wondered what this Fairy was staying here for.

As a Fairy knight, she could surely return to her own village. She hardly needed to fight for Naurilia. Was she loyal to the country?

'Not a chance.'

Yet she stayed. Of course, very few people knew she was a Fairy knight. Only himself and the members of the lunatic unit, more or less. Even Graham, the lord of Border Guard, probably did not know.

She had initially held her position like a mercenary, but now she remained a soldier as a matter of course. Given her connection to Krang, she probably had some agreement with the royal house.

'Payment?'

Was that why she stayed? It was none of Encrid's business. He doubted she would answer even if he asked.

"If you think you might get lost, I'll guide you. You've been away a long time. It must be confusing."

Ragna had offered to accompany him as well, but Rem stopped him.

"This crazy bastard is really testing my patience."

Rem would not have held back even without that remark. He was looking for any excuse to pick a fight. Fortunately, neither attacked with the intent to kill.

Now that he had reached the rank of knight, Encrid understood: if they fought in earnest, there was a good chance one of them would die. That was the nature of a fight using Will, unless there was a clear gap in ability.

"Wolf spirit."

Rem used spirit invocation. In exchange for the shamanic power dwelling in his body, a wolf's leg strength settled into his legs.

"Dwell in my legs and crush my foe."

They were taking things a little more seriously today. Encrid had left their quarrel behind as he set out.

Jaxon had gone off, saying he had business to attend to, and Krais truly was busy. War preparations, one might call it. Though he seemed to have plenty of other work as well.

For all the talk of war, the next few months might be spent simply watching. They would not be fighting immediately. That was Encrid's understanding. In any case, he had set out alone.

Warm sunlight shone down, a gentle breeze stirred, and a few birds sang amid it all. Surely it was the same sunlight and wind as always. Yet it was warmer, more refreshing. The wind seemed to blow straight through his chest and out his back. The sunlight, too, seemed to fill his entire body before flowing out again.

He had become a knight, a word that had ceased to be a title of nobility and become proof of martial might. Once again, Encrid felt how everything had changed. The sunlight was different. The wind was different.

'And I, the one who feels them, have changed.'

Everything had changed.

He could see the path his sword should take and knew how to move it. Hearing those things in the wind and the birdsong, Encrid walked on. The sunlight was wonderfully clear that day.

All the way to the market, he savored his steps, savored the present. So much so that he wished this moment, this leisurely stroll, could last forever.

-You seem to be enjoying yourself.

Aker spoke. Did he? Encrid gave an offhand reply and continued walking. Along the way, a few soldiers he knew saluted him.

"I want to be like you!"

One soldier boldly called out. To be someone's idol... Honestly, he would be lying if he said he did not enjoy it.

"How do you do it?"

At the soldier's next question, Encrid saw the commander's expression turn murderous. Judging by their matching uniforms and other details, this was a well-disciplined unit. The soldier had nevertheless taken it upon himself to speak to Encrid.

Once Encrid passed, that soldier's day would probably involve physical punishment in the name of training. Punishment drills, in other words. Setting such trivial thoughts aside, he looked at the soldier.

As he always thought, there was only one answer he could give those who asked how.

"Find your own motivation. A comrade might do your work for you, but no one can make your resolutions or steel your resolve in your place."

Behind the soldier's ardent gaze, the commander's eyes shone too, his temper held in check. The eyes of all ten soldiers marching in two files shone that way. It was not a bad sight.

"The flower of war!"

"Is the infantry!"

After parting from the soldiers with that familiar chant, he neared the market and found it teeming with people. The city had grown, the market had grown, and Vanessa's Pumpkin Soup had grown. Even so, everything was packed, yet orderly.

There was no road for carriages. All the streets were pedestrian paths, paved with bluestone rather than bare earth. He could even see several stone buildings rising more than five stories high.

War with Aspen was said to be imminent. Merchants were reportedly discussing it too. The rumors had spread everywhere. No one knew where they had started, but everyone understood that fighting would begin soon. Some still doubted it, but most who could read the situation accepted the war as a foregone conclusion.

In the past, just a few years ago, merchants would all pull out at the first talk of war. They had turned Border Guard into something like a ghost town. Now, it was nothing of the sort.