Najin pointed to the epithet with his fingertip.

Dawnstar.

The epithet combined “dawn,” the faint light of early morning, with the word for “star.” The master of the Gray Tower had annotated it with “Too plain. Not very good,” but that simplicity was precisely what Najin liked.

'Much better than something like the Death Slayer.'

Of course, that was not the only reason.

Najin rather liked the epithet Dawnstar, especially the phrase explaining its meaning.

Dawnstar, the star that heralds the end of night.

Dawn did not refer solely to early morning. It meant the end of a long night, the breaking of day, and, depending on the context, hope or the beginning of a new era.

“It's similar to Arthur's epithet,” Merlin whispered in his ear.

“These days, he's better known as the Sword of Selection, the Knight King, or the Great Hero, but that wasn't always the case. His first epithet had more of a sense of a beacon, of hope.”

That story had never appeared in the fairy tales.

“The days when Arthur and I traveled together were humanity's dark age, remember? What people call the Age of Turmoil... Arthur was the first to set a star in that night sky. To humanity, he was a symbol of hope, a beacon signaling the counterattack.”

A light to drive away the long darkness. A beacon signaling the counterattack. Considering the times he had lived in, it was an epithet that suited Arthur.

“Dawnstar has a similar meaning. But I wonder why she came up with it. It doesn't seem related to the feats that formed your stars, does it?”

'You're right.'

Najin looked up at the master of the Gray Tower. Nayuta was staring at the epithet he had indicated with a thoroughly dissatisfied expression, as though asking whether he really had to choose that one.

“Lady Nayuta?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. What is it? Something you want to ask?”

“Could you tell me how you came up with Dawnstar?”

“There's no reason I can't, but I put so little effort into it compared with the others that explaining it feels a little awkward. Do you really like that name? Aren't the other epithets better? For example, the Death...”

“I like this one.”

Nayuta smacked her lips for no particular reason, then began explaining with a dissatisfied look.

“You know an ill-omened star appeared the day you slew the red dragon, don't you?”

Najin nodded.

The ill-omened star. The constellation of the abyss.

He remembered the black and crimson stars of the Witch of Camlann rising into the sky that night.

“It was the first time that ill-omened star had appeared in a full thousand years. Its terrifying arrival threw the night sky into turmoil. The stars extinguished their own light and hid in the darkness.”

The Witch of Camlann hunted stars. She swallowed them, brought them down, and reduced them to ruin. Before her constellation had been sealed in the abyss, she had brought down countless stars from the heavens.

Nayuta said that countless constellations had extinguished their light and fallen silent the moment the ill-omened star appeared, as though remembering an old nightmare.

“With the starlight gone, the night sky was dark. Dark and cold. But then, out of nowhere, two stars rose!”

Nayuta spread both hands wide, as though mimicking the shining stars.

“They were your stars. While even those enormous constellations were putting out their light in fear of the witch, two little stars, not even a constellation yet... were shining.”

Stars shining brightly in the darkness. Young, fragile stars that could not yet even be called a constellation.

“Perhaps the larger constellations were ashamed to stay silent when even those little stars burned pure white, as if defying the ill-omened star. Only then did the others begin to shine again.”

Najin had been too focused on fighting the red dragon to see it that night, but his stars had been the first of countless stars to blaze anew—as though drawn to their light, or spurred on by it.

“The stars that began shining again drove away the darkness cast by the ill-omened star. It was quite a sight.”

“Was it?”

“Yes. To me, it looked just like daybreak, like morning lighting up the sky. Seeing it brought the word ‘dawn’ to mind, so I came up with that name on impulse...”

Nayuta broke off her enthusiastic explanation and fidgeted with her fingers, looking a little embarrassed.

“Honestly, isn't it a little underwhelming? A star's name ought to be grand and splendid, but this is too plain. How should I put it? You can't feel the philosophy behind the epithet.”

Until she finished explaining the origin of Dawnstar, Najin had been inwardly impressed, thinking that the position of Gray Tower master was not bestowed lightly. Her next words, however, left him looking regretful.

“Hmm... It's not that she has no talent for naming things, but her taste is a little out of touch. Why is she so obsessed with grandeur?”

Najin wholeheartedly agreed with Merlin.

“I'll choose this one. Dawnstar. I like it.”

In any event, Najin did not change his decision despite the tower master's efforts to dissuade him.

He understood that her approach to naming had its own philosophy and convictions, but agreeing with them was another matter. It was his epithet, after all. If someone addressed him as “The Death Slayer, He Who Cleaves Death!” he doubted he would ever be able to hold his head up in public.

“Well, if that's what you want...”

Still smacking her lips regretfully to the very end, Nayuta finally circled Dawnstar.

“Now, Najin?”

Before gathering her belongings to leave, she turned to him, as though there was something she still needed to say.

“This may not be something I should say to someone who has only just earned his stars, but do you know how many stars fall?”

“Stars falling?”

“Yes. As many stars have fallen as there are shining in the night sky. Perhaps even more. Some people call stars a symbol of eternity and constancy, but is anything in this world truly eternal?”

Nayuta, master of the Gray Tower, a mage who made her living counting the stars, continued.

“Countless stars fall before they can form a constellation. Sometimes they become corrupt, sometimes they change into something else, and sometimes they break. That's the kind of place the Battlefield of Stars is.”

She smiled bitterly.

“Your stars shine now, but one day they might lose their light and fall. The odds are high. I've seen so many Novas that once shone pure white disappear.”

Nayuta let out a short breath, closing her eyes and opening them again. Nothing had changed since he first saw her. Her appearance was still gloomy, and her hair was still unkempt.

“But I hope that won't happen to you.”

Her eyes alone were different.

Nayuta had spent most of her life observing stars. Charting their movements was both her life and her profession. Stars dwelled in the eyes of this mage who had counted so very many of them.

Whether they were her own stars or those she had observed, Najin could not tell. But he thought those eyes, at least, were beautiful.

“I hope you'll earn more stars. I hope you won't lose your light. I hope you'll join star to star and form a constellation.”

“And at the end of that,” she said, “I hope you'll become a Constellation and come to see me.”

Nayuta smiled, the sort of smile a mother might give a young child.

“When that day comes, I'll give your constellation a new name.”

“Something splendid and grand?”

“Of course. You can look forward to it. I'll be thinking of names for your stars whenever I have a spare moment.”

Najin smiled wryly.

He would really rather she didn't.

2.

Quite some time passed after Najin's epithet was decided.

That also meant the news had spread throughout the Empire, plunging it into turmoil for who knew how many times that year. Major events that might occur once in decades or even centuries kept happening one after another.

Someone had drawn Excalibur.

King Arthur's constellation had stirred.

The youngest Sword Seeker had appeared.

The Witch of Camlann had made her move.

And someone had earned two stars at once.

Those were only the events that had occurred on the continent, rather than in the Outer Lands. Newspaper offices screamed as they churned out papers covering the major events breaking practically every day. But there were others screaming for precisely the opposite reason.

“Is this year cursed?”

“How many revisions is this already? How much of the history books do we have to tear apart and rewrite? Who am I? Where am I?”

“The youngest! The youngest! The youngest! Enough with the damned youngest!”

“Is the world a joke? Do the heavens perhaps not know what ‘once in a generation’ means? Once in a generation! So exceptional that someone like them hardly ever appears in the world!”

They were the imperial historians.

For those tasked with compiling—and sometimes revising—the histories whenever a historic event occurred, it was enough to drive them mad. They screamed, clutching their hair.

「A Sword Seeker at the age of just eighteen.」

Even a novel written that way would surely become kindling, accompanied by reviews saying, “Now listen here, author. Do you think this makes any sense?” Yet reality always surpassed fiction.

「Eighteen, the youngest Sword Seeker.」

「Earned two stars simultaneously at the age of eighteen.」

The historians laughed hollowly.

One joked, “Why not say he drew Excalibur while we're at it?” But then he fell silent, realizing that it did not seem entirely impossible. If that were true, he would surely be buried under twice his current workload.

“Is that record-breaking brat planning to break the historians' hair-loss records too? What's the record for the youngest historian to go completely bald?”

“Twenty-six. And I suspect it'll be broken soon. Our department's youngest member's hairline has retreated ten paces in just a few months...”

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-one.”

“...”

“...”

The historians observed a brief moment of silence.

Of course, that was only the historians' problem. Most imperial citizens cheered at the news of Najin.

Dawnstar, the star that heralds the end of night.

The people of the Empire gazed at the newly risen stars and rejoiced. In any era, the birth of a hero drew cheers from the masses. Najin had yet to perform feats worthy of being called a hero, but his actions so far were enough to inspire anticipation for his future.

Public interest in him grew by the day.

And at this point, one question began to emerge.

The events occurring one after another that year, and Najin, the boy who seemed to stand at their center.

'Wasn't that boy the one who drew Excalibur?'

It was a reasonable suspicion for someone to have.

The timing overlapped in a curious way. Najin had risen to prominence shortly after Excalibur was drawn. Didn't the timing line up too neatly to be a coincidence?

「The imperial family and those great constellations aren't blind. How could they fail to recognize the person who drew Excalibur? Besides, the boy isn't even a transcendent being, is he?」

「It's a conspiracy theory. Wild delusion.」

「Didn't the Ever-Radiant Point personally verify it?」

「But considering what the boy has done, it isn't entirely implausible.」

「We must take Excalibur's unique nature into account.」

Some suspected Najin had drawn Excalibur, while others argued that it made no sense. For now, the latter voices were louder... but not loud enough to dismiss the opposing opinion entirely. It was not without merit.

「Then who in the world drew Excalibur?」

No one could readily answer that question.

Months had passed since Excalibur was drawn, and it was now approaching a year, yet there had not been so much as a single reported sighting.

「Surely one of the three Sword Masters mentioned as candidates drew it? They're simply hiding the fact.」

「I expect it was Sir Karon. He is beloved by the sword. Looking back over the entire history of the Order of the Sword, no one has ever possessed talent like his.」

「The Empire's foremost warrior would keep silent even if he had drawn Excalibur. Doesn't that mean Sir Gerd might have obtained it?」

「Perhaps, surprisingly, it was the Order's executioner. If someone else had drawn Excalibur, that murderous fiend would never have stayed quiet.」

Who in the world was Excalibur's owner?

As the three Sword Masters once considered candidates became the subject of speculation again, unlike a year ago, theirs were no longer the only names being mentioned.

The Empire's Sword Master, Gerd, the Empire's foremost warrior.

The master of the Order of the Sword, Karon, the Sword Saint.

The Order of Starblood's executioner, Yuel, the murderous fiend.

And... Najin, Dawnstar.

Najin's name was now mentioned alongside the three Sword Masters. It was true that the boy fell short of them, but he was no longer so insignificant that he could simply be ignored.

「Najin.」

A boy born in an underground city.

The boy who had once been nobody had boldly etched his name into the heart of the Empire. Najin was no longer a nobody. The two stars he had set in the night sky bore witness to his existence.

A year since the boy left the underground city.

All this had happened in less than a single year.

3.

As Najin's stock reached new heights by the day, two people were reaping considerable benefits. One was Marquis Edelmar, lord of Trevache...

“Bravo, bravo! Ack, cough!”

“M-Marquis!”

“Breathe!”

The marquis had cheered so enthusiastically that he forgot to breathe and nearly passed out. Even as his knights carried him away, he was still grinning from ear to ear.

He had good reason.

About a month earlier, Marquis Edelmar had launched a tourism venture centered on a play based on the story of Najin and Dieta. Najin's fame as the youngest Sword Seeker had already been bringing in a tidy profit, and now his two stars had added fresh fuel to the fire.

Famous nobles and countless curiosity seekers came to Trevache asking, “Is this where the youngest Sword Seeker, the two-star holder, played out that grand romance?” And naturally, gold coins followed in their footsteps.

As a result, Trevache was enjoying an unprecedented boom. Its lord was not merely beaming—he was so happy he could hardly breathe.

“I must write a letter to that splendid fellow, Najin. Tell him Trevache is his eternal ally and dearest friend, and that he's welcome anytime. I'll treat him to a banquet!”

And there was someone else much like Marquis Edelmar—perhaps even more overwhelmed with happiness.

“You know, Pasion...”

“Yes, my lady. What is it?”

Dieta, the Snake That Swallows Gold.

“Th-the company's share price is strange.”

She pointed to the newspaper with a trembling hand.

There was a chart on it tracing an exquisitely beautiful curve: the share price of the Dieta Trading Company. As she gazed at the curve soaring high into the sky, the corners of Dieta's mouth quivered.

“Isn't it beautiful? My goodness, where else could you find a work of art like this? I think this curve is dozens of times more beautiful than those scraps of paintings hanging on the wall...”

Not even the greatest painting of the century could move her this much. Dieta stroked the newspaper with a look of rapture before turning her attention to its words.

Dieta, the investment genius.

Unlike in the past, when those words had simply delighted her, seeing them now pricked her conscience a little. Of course, she had believed Najin would achieve great success... but she had never expected him to soar so quickly, or so spectacularly.

The company's share price was not merely tracing a steep curve upward; it looked ready to break through the ceiling.

By now, even Dieta herself was beginning to feel afraid.