Encrid rose from his seat.

"I'll be going, then."

"Come back in three days," Eitri said without even turning his head.

"All right."

Encrid was not one to fuss over etiquette, nor had he expected to be seen off, so he stepped away without concern. Outside the smithy, the air felt considerably colder. Heat, passion... it felt as though all those things gathered inside to make the smithy even hotter.

He passed through the market again on his way back. He could have taken one of the regularly scheduled carriages along the broad carriage road built around its outskirts, but he chose to walk. He wanted to, and he was now keenly aware that he did not have a single copper coin in his pocket. He could hardly announce, "I am the General of Border Guard, the Demon Killer, and the King's Dear Friend," just to hitch a ride.

Above all, the sight of Eitri and the Frog lingered like an afterimage, and something kept thumping against his heart. That made him want to walk all the more.

The market was still crowded. The Giant was still there selling his wares.

"If you can't pay my price, get lost."

Several merchants standing before him grew angry, but none attacked. That was only natural, if they had any brains. However skilled Border Guard's guards might be, they could not intervene faster than a Giant could burst someone's head. His fists were far closer than the guards.

Was getting angry at all an act of courage? Or were they just stupid? More likely, they dared to get angry because they saw him as a merchant. Had they met him alone outside the city to trade, those merchants would never have provoked him.

That aside, the Giant did not seem to be conducting his business very wisely. From what Encrid could tell, he ignored every attempt to haggle.

"Why are you so stubborn about it?" Encrid asked, stopping on his way past.

The Giant glanced at Encrid after watching the merchants leave. Did this bastard have nothing to do? Why was he wandering around in broad daylight? Was he some sort of gigolo who emptied women's purses? Breaking off that train of thought, the Giant spoke.

"I bring things that not just anyone can get."

His pride showed in those words. Encrid waited for him to continue. Letting his hands hang naturally at his sides, he looked the Giant in the eye, steadied his breathing, and settled in to listen. That swayed the Giant. People who listened so seriously and attentively were rare. Not that he had been longing to tell anyone, but since the subject had come up...

"To my mind, a good merchant knows how to find good goods."

He had no confidence in his haggling, but he could find something special. Because he was a Giant? No. He did it because that was what he wanted to do.

"I have no talent for making things, but I can find what's needed to make something special. Getting the right goods to the right person and receiving proper payment. That's my work."

His eyes shone as he spoke. Reflecting the sunlight, those brown eyes made him look not like a red-blooded demonic beast, but a merchant full of ambition. The Giant, who had remained unmoved by merchants cursing him or people picking fights, now seemed a little excited. Why? Because he was speaking of what he truly wanted.

["I will become a knight."]

Encrid had been the same whenever he said those words. Something that welled up beyond his ability to contain it had made him that way. It had set his blood boiling. In the Giant, he saw himself.

"See you again."

"Try carrying some Krona."

"Let's make sure we meet again. Next time, I'll have a big-eyed friend beside me with a whole backpack of Krona, not just a purse."

He meant it.

"Suit yourself."

The Giant chuckled. Encrid answered, then turned toward the barracks.

As he walked, his steps gradually slowed. Dreams, yearning, passion. Those things rolled around in his mind like tangled skeins of thread. But why was he thinking about them?

As he walked, sorting through his thoughts, he noticed a child sitting beside the road. The child was staring straight at him, a gaze he could not help noticing. Slight of build and wearing clothes so worn they were torn, the child looked barely tall enough to reach his chest. The spot was a good distance from the gate guarded by soldiers.

Fourteen? Fifteen? The child did not look very old, with freckles, pale brown eyes, and coarse, dark red hair that would probably gleam a brighter red if properly cared for. Rising from a crouch, the child continued staring at Encrid without even brushing the dirt off their bottom.

"If this is coincidence, the god of alchemy must have helped me. If not, it seems my efforts have paid off."

The child spoke as Encrid walked along, meeting that gaze now and then. The light, thin voice told him the child was a girl. Though in truth, he had already known from her build.

Encrid stopped. Her voice was clear and ringing, and unlike her appearance, her manner of speaking had strength to it. Resolve, to be precise.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked casually.

"The lord of Border Guard," the child replied.

Perhaps that was a nicer title to hear than Demon Killer. More importantly, she had recognized him at a glance. An assassin? She did not look like one. There was no killing intent, and nothing in her build or stance suggested any training. Nor was there any scent of a spell. Could even that be a trick? Perhaps, but his intuition said no. This child had simply come looking for him.

"You were looking for me? Why?"

The child thought she was truly lucky. Why? She had never believed that merely coming to Border Guard would let her meet this man. She had settled here in the hope that, with luck, she might get a chance to speak to someone powerful.

She had loitered outside the barracks, too, but it was obvious they would not let her in. The soldiers showed discipline. Experience had taught her that tricks did not work on soldiers like that. Not that she had any tricks to try. Yet she could not give everything up, either, so she had plopped down to think about what to do.

The story of how she had come this far would have been a long one. After wandering in search of hope, this was the only road left to her. To put it bluntly, she had gambled her future, her body, and her very life. She was here only because luck had favored that gamble. How easy could it be to find a merchant in a trading company headed this way who would take pity on a young girl? A Giant merchant had helped her along the way, too. She had been through all sorts of things to reach this place.

"To hold you responsible for killing my teacher."

Hadn't she originally meant to kneel and beg for help? She had considered it at first, but face-to-face with him, those were the words that slipped out instead. Her natural temperament played a part, but more precisely, it was because the man called the lord of Border Guard had stopped at a single word from her, looked her straight in the eye, and listened.

Some days, she had felt she might burst into tears. Other days, she had thought she should simply take life as it came. But in the end, she had made it here.

'Thank you, God.'

The child offered her thanks silently. Without that luck, she would already be a corpse rotting in some corner of the wastes or somewhere in a ravine.

Her grubby appearance testified to how difficult the journey had been. Her nails were broken, and her worn shoes had holes at the big toes. She smelled sour and unpleasant, but paid it no mind as she spoke.

"I understand you killed the alchemist Raban."

"Who?"

Encrid did not remember the name. Even if he had heard it before, enough time had passed that forgetting it was understandable. A good memory did not mean remembering everything.

The girl explained, and Encrid listened. Why didn't he ignore her? Her ringing voice, her confident bearing, and her unexpectedly proper manner of speaking had caught his keen senses. She did not seem like an ordinary child. As he listened to her explanation, he remembered who the alchemist Raban was.

The mad bastard who had experimented on people under Black Blade. A skilled mad bastard, though. Encrid now added another description: a mad bastard who had taken on several apprentices.

In truth, the girl had been destined to become Raban's concubine when she grew up, and Encrid, who had changed that fate, was her benefactor. She was only sixteen, but she understood what she needed to. In other words, she knew he had done her a kindness. Still, her teacher's sudden death had indeed put her through hell. Above all, she had been unable to continue the studies she wanted to pursue.

"I have the makings of the greatest healer, but right now I have no Krona and no one to teach me. At this rate, I'll have to sell my body. Would you consider supporting me and taking responsibility?"

She spoke boldly. He noticed the freckles on her face, and how imperfectly she had washed it, wherever she had found the chance. Grime showed on her neck and elsewhere. She probably had not been able to wash anything but her face.

Was that filthy? Not to Encrid's eyes. What held him instead was her gaze. Because it was attractive? No. Those eyes held yearning, a yearning like a blazing flame.

"I can become an excellent healer. I don't mean wielding divine power."

The child spoke with her head held high. Chin raised, she looked at him with shining brown eyes.

"Explain."

"... You really want me to?"

They were standing in the street. There were no chairs or refreshments. One was grubby and disheveled; the other had been walking home with a tangled mind. None of that mattered.

"Yes. Tell me."

The child raised her head and began.

What a healer was, why she was needed, what she intended to do, what her goal was, and what he stood to gain from it. Some parts were clumsy. Others were wondrous. Yes, Encrid felt wonder. The child spoke passionately, and he felt moved by her fervor. The moment he felt it, it was as though lightning had struck him.

Shining eyes. The eyes of someone moving toward something. That was what they were. Of course, this was not the first time he had seen such eyes. He had just seen them in the Frog, and before that, in the craftsman Eitri.

Encrid remembered others who had possessed that gaze. Beginning with the boy who had dreamed of becoming an herb gatherer, then Rem, Ragna, Jaxon, Audin, Roford, Pell, Esther, Dunbachel, and Teresa. At one time or another, they had looked at him with those same eyes.

Then Aesia came to mind.

["Honestly, I'd half given up. I thought it would be enough if my younger sibling and I could get one meal a day. But I don't think that's true anymore."]

She had said that watching Oara's back had made her think that way.

What had Aesia's eyes looked like then? The orange-haired knight's gaze had burned, too. It had been full of passion and yearning. She had filled herself with the determination to move forward again. He had seen it.

'Then what about me?'

What was he like now? Had he been satisfied, even for a moment? No. Absolutely not.

It was not satisfaction. But knowing he had become a knight and gained sufficient skill, he must have grown pleased with himself without realizing it. He had not thought this was the end, but it had seemed that, for now, he had achieved his dream. Was it because something he had only dreamed of was finally within his grasp? Had he simply kept up his usual routine, saying only with his body that it was not so, that this was not the end?

Watching Rem and Ragna fight, he had wanted to stand on their level. Was he satisfied now that he could? He had vowed to protect those behind him. Was he pleased because he thought he could do that in most circumstances now? Was he relieved because he felt he could lend strength to those who spoke of their dreams?

A tremor, a tiny tremor, shook Encrid's entire being. A tingling rose from his toes, surged through his body, passed his jaw, and reached the crown of his head. Then it became a thunderbolt that pierced him from head to foot.

At some point, he had closed his eyes. Now he opened them. He still knew the sunlight was different, the wind was different, everything had changed. Yet some things did not change. And there was a sentient sword that had encouraged him to become this way. Aker's words flashed through his mind.

["You've already learned everything from all sorts of people. There's no fun in teaching you."]

["I could teach you tactics separately, but where did you learn them already?"]

["Are you perhaps receiving private instruction from another knight?"]

["Am I just unlucky?"]

["You're already a finished vessel."]

["You'll gradually learn to handle Will better with time."]

Every word suggested he had overcome his limits and achieved something. That was how it had held him back. This was no fine blade. It was a demon sword. He had reached his conclusion.

"Aker, you bastard," Encrid muttered.

- Hey, you've got it wrong.

Aker hummed and vibrated.

It was a sword imbued with determination. Surely it had not been made merely to chatter. So it would have some use. Otherwise, he really would throw it deep into a ravine. The decision he had made in jest while dealing with the Giant merchant might become reality.

The eyes of the Giant merchant, the craftsman Eitri, the jewelry-making Frog, and the child with the clear voice who wanted to become a healer. And all the countless others he had seen. Encrid felt as though he had broken out of a hard shell.

"What? Aker?"

The child asked again, wondering whether the man before her might simply be a lunatic rather than Encrid. What the hell was wrong with this bastard all of a sudden?

"I was talking to myself. I'll take responsibility for you. But no trying to marry me."

"... You certainly dream big. Do you think every woman will fall for you just because you have a pretty face?"

"Good, then."

Encrid turned as he spoke, but the girl called after him.

"My name is Ann. What am I supposed to do if you just walk away?"

"Follow me."

Ann followed.

Entering the barracks, Encrid ran into Sinar and entrusted Ann to her.

"Please find someone to feed her and help her wash."

"You bring home a daughter and dump her on me without warning?"

"Enough with the Fairy jokes."

Had Esther seen Encrid's expression now, she would probably have said his eyebrows were back to normal. Quite literally, his relaxed brows had returned to their former set. Sinar sensed his distinctive air. In other words, he was himself again. The wood that had lost its vitality had become a blazing hearth once more.

"Careful with fire," Sinar said.

Encrid heard her but swept past. His stride said he had something more pressing to attend to. Watching him go, Sinar spoke.

"Who are you? If you are his daughter, your stepmother will be jealous."

For a moment, Sinar was in such a good mood that she joked with someone other than Encrid. Realizing she had been left on her own, Ann wondered whether coming to Border Guard had been a mistake.

"Aren't I a little too old to be his daughter?"

"True."

Sinar readily accepted that and nodded.

"A concubine, then?"

"Absolutely not! I like men who seem a little more laid-back. And if he's not blond, he's not my type."

Ann was young, but she knew exactly what she liked.

"Welcome," Sinar said sincerely.

There was no rule that every woman had to fall for Encrid, but it was welcome news all the same.