Hakan the Junkie. Her real name was Hakante Kanariel.

She was an alchemist. Not one of those Healing School alchemists who shut themselves away in little rooms and did nothing but stir ladles in pots, but an alchemist of the Fresh Blood School.

The Fresh Blood School.

A school that practiced alchemy using blood as its medium.

Some described them this way: something more dangerous than blades flowed through their bodies. When Hakan had once heard that, she had laughed aloud and replied that it was an accurate assessment.

SPLASH.

Hakan scattered her own blood.

It vaporized the moment it touched the ground. The vaporized blood settled thickly over the alley like fog. This was a kind of performance-enhancing drug Hakan had formulated—one that pushed physical abilities, including strength and reaction speed, to their limits and sent its users into a frenzy.

Its active ingredients reacted with the drugs she had already administered to the addicts. The instant they breathed in the drug-laden fog, their eyes became bloodshot.

"GRAAAAAAAAH!"

Screaming, they began to rush Najin at speeds incomparable to those of a moment ago.

'I was going to save this.'

Breathing in the fog, Hakan loosened up her body.

The drug had no side effects for her, but for everyone else it was effectively a double-edged poison. Inhaling it brought dramatic enhancements and euphoria, but...

Hakan narrowed her eyes and glanced at the addicts.

Loud cracks and grinding sounds came from their bodies. The sound of bodies beginning to break down. That was the drug's side effect: the physical deterioration began at the same time as the enhancement. In just a few minutes, they would probably be unable to move.

Simply put, it was meant for a short, decisive battle.

She had originally saved it for Ivan, but now that the boy had shown his light, she had to bury him here and now. There was no telling what complications he might introduce. And ultimately, that judgment proved correct.

BOOM.

Najin kicked off the alley wall, lunged forward, and swung his sword. Trailing white radiance, the blade cleaved through three bodies at once. Despite the drug's enhancement of their physical abilities, the addicts could not even react to his sword.

Just as the drugs had made them faster, mana was accelerating Najin.

Perhaps still unused to his accelerated body, he sometimes moved as though the sword were swinging him around. Yet he advanced, slaughtering the addicts at a terrifying pace. Kicking off one wall after the other in a zigzag, he looked as though he were performing acrobatics.

THUD, THUD.

With every swing, severed arms and heads fell to the ground. Just as the headless bodies were about to explode, Najin hurled them away as though throwing them over his shoulder, or kicked them aside. Every movement was astonishingly fast.

When he pushed off the ground, there was no longer a mere tap. He sprinted with booms that shattered the earth beneath his feet.

"GRAAAAAARGH!"

The addicts threw themselves at Najin, heedless of how many were cut down. Glancing at the group leaping toward him, Najin jumped backward for the first time.

But it was not a leap meant for retreat.

Landing from his great backward leap, Najin drove his foot deep into the ground with a heavy thud. He let his sword hang behind his back and slowly exhaled.

"Whew..."

By stepping back, Najin had made room for a running start. Unaware of that, the addicts took a step toward him.

BOOM!

Najin kicked off the ground.

His sudden acceleration was almost too fast for the eye to follow. White sword aura streaked across the alley, trailing a tail like a meteor. Then, the instant he reached what he needed to cut, he twisted his waist and swung.

A horizontal slash—something one should never attempt in a narrow alley.

Yet when Najin's blade touched the wall, it did not bounce away. It sank smoothly into it. Without the slightest resistance, the blade sliced through the wall and emerged on the other side. The cutting power of sword aura had freed Najin from the constraints of his surroundings.

SHAAAAAK!

The sweeping sword cut down every addict blocking his path. Before their severed, crumpled corpses could even begin to tremble, Najin kicked off the ground and sprinted again.

KABOOOOM!

Explosions sounded behind him.

Using even the force of the blasts to propel himself forward, Najin headed straight for Hakan. Taking out the commander in one swift rush was the best choice he could make.

It was the best choice, but there was one thing Najin had overlooked.

He knew nothing about alchemists.

He did not know what the Fresh Blood School was.

He did not know how Hakan fought.

A conclusion drawn from the barest information.

It might have been his best choice, but it was not the right one. Just as he was about to swing at Hakan, Najin saw her smiling at him. It was not the smile of someone cornered.

Quite the opposite. It was the smile of a hunter who had cornered her prey.

... The Fresh Blood School.

Those who practiced alchemy using blood as their medium.

Now the alley was filled with blood. Blood shed by dozens of addicts. Blood sprayed in every direction when they exploded. Blood covered the places where Najin set his feet, and the sword in his hand was also stained red with fresh blood.

The addicts had inhaled the fog and consumed drugs made from Hakan's blood, so their spilled blood contained hers.

Thus, all of it was the perfect catalyst for Hakante Kanariel, alchemist of the Fresh Blood School.

SNAP.

Hakan snapped her fingers.

In that instant, the alley turned scarlet. Using the blood spread everywhere as a catalyst, she performed the simplest and most effective kind of alchemy.

An explosion.

KABOOOOOOOOM!

The alley shook with a deafening roar. An explosion on an entirely different scale from those that had burst the addicts engulfed it. Walls swept up in the shock wave collapsed, and chunks of stone crashed heavily to the ground.

Dust rose amid the searing air.

Hakan waved a hand to clear her view.

As the dust cleared, it revealed the devastated alley and the boy who had been swept away by the shock wave and flung outside it.

"Hah."

Hakan gave a hollow laugh.

Despite being caught in an explosion that powerful, the boy was still standing on his own two feet.

Najin stood, supporting himself on his sword.

As though he had pulled an arm up to shield his face in that brief instant, one arm hung limp, but his face was unharmed. His sunset-colored eyes were still glaring at Hakan.

Those eyes were chilling.

And Hakan had seen eyes like them before.

The knight of Atanga who had condemned her to this city seventeen years ago had eyes just like the boy's. A chill ran down her spine, and she twisted the corners of her mouth upward.

"Well, then."

Hakan gestured.

"Let's see how much longer you last."

Once you can no longer move, I'll gouge out those eyes.

Even after expending so many addicts, Hakan still had a sizable army left. She had spent seventeen whole years preparing this plan.

Now addicts began converging on Najin not only from behind her, but from all over the city streets.

And Najin merely adjusted his grip on his sword. The sword aura surging from it did not waver in the slightest.

2.

Hakan had been smiling at the thought of finishing the boy off and gouging out those unsettling eyes. But at some point, she stopped smiling. Her face began to stiffen.

"... What the hell?"

Hakan muttered in disbelief.

She had definitely cornered him.

She had played her hidden card, exhausted his stamina, and caught him in an explosion that broke one of his arms. Even at a glance, the boy's body was clearly not in working order. He was so battered that it would have been no surprise if he collapsed on the spot.

So why had he gotten faster?

Hakan looked at the scene before her.

Najin was now facing addicts coming not only from the front, but from every direction. The battle had turned against him. His injuries made the fighting even more grueling. Yet he was moving faster than before.

Gone was the boy who had sometimes moved as though his sword were swinging him around, apparently unused to his accelerated body.

As though he had grown accustomed to handling mana in that brief interval, Najin was increasing his speed instead. With those faster movements, he cut down the addicts surging in from every side.

'That bastard Ivan. Just what has he been hiding?'

This was strange. Far too strange.

Had anyone ever been capable of moving like that at his age, let alone producing sword aura? Even Hakan, who knew little about the history of swordsmen, could see how strange it was.

A battered body.

Sword aura that shone ever more brilliantly, as though in inverse proportion to that body's condition.

The light dwelling in the boy's sword grew more intense with every passing moment. It was trying to move beyond a fragment and take the form of complete sword aura. Watching it, Hakan gave a hollow laugh.

"This is fucking insane."

He was growing even now.

His movements grew faster, simpler, and more efficient. The boy cut down addicts to open a path, then threw himself clear of the area the instant Hakan tried to use their blood as a catalyst for alchemy.

SWISH!

Seeing him immediately swing his sword hard to shake off the blood, Hakan could only fall silent. The sight of the boy responding to her alchemy after seeing it just once was beyond astonishing. It was frightening.

He grew fast. Far too fast.

He adapted fast. Grotesquely fast.

At this rate, he would catch up to her.

She was certain that although she held the advantage now, the longer this dragged on, the more the boy would close the gap. Hakan did not want to admit it, but she knew she had to acknowledge that fact.

SHAAAAAK!

A path opened along the sweep of the boy's sword.

His fierce sunset-colored eyes gleamed menacingly in the shallow darkness of the underground city. Surely she was the one with the advantage, yet Hakan was growing increasingly anxious.

The tide of battle was beginning to turn.

If this continued...

CRACK.

It happened then. Hakan narrowed her eyes at the faint noise. It had come from the sword the boy was swinging. She looked at Najin's blade.

"Aha."

At that moment, Hakan burst out laughing.

She had seen it: a shallow crack in the sword Najin wielded. She could clearly see it spreading with every swing.

A sword pushed beyond its limits.

A sword that had taken the full impact of the explosion.

As a result, it had sustained a small flaw, and that flaw had upset its balance. Had he swung it normally, it would not have mattered, but...

Najin was producing sword aura now.

Unstable, rough, raw sword aura, at that.

The turbulent aura was eating away at the sword. Its remaining life was being consumed at a rapid rate. Having crossed the line and begun to run, the boy was growing quickly—but the only thing growing was Najin himself.

Najin was growing.

The blade in his hand could not keep pace.

CLANG-CRACK!

At last, Najin's sword broke.

The instant it snapped, the white radiance dwelling in its blade scattered. The shining boy lost his light along with his sword.

"Kill him."

Hakan gestured.

The addicts rushed the boy whose light had gone out. Their bodies obscured his sunset-colored eyes until they could no longer be seen.

3.

His sword had broken.

With a broken sword, he could not win.

Najin gritted his teeth and rolled. Evading the addicts lunging at him, he began to run. But there was nowhere to escape. Hakan the Junkie had scattered addicts throughout Ivan's territory, and they were crawling out wherever he went.

In the end, he had to fight.

But how?

He needed a weapon. A sturdy weapon that could withstand his sword aura and would never break. The first option that came to mind was a practical one: go to old Hogel's smithy.

'It would be good if my sword were finished.'

Even if it wasn't, he could take dozens of swords and hold out, fighting on as he broke them one after another.

'But.'

That was impossible.

It was far too distant, and he would never be able to break through all those addicts without a weapon. For now, he was moving without even feeling pain... but Najin instinctively knew that would not last.

His whole body was beginning to ache, little by little.

At this rate, he would lose—and losing meant death.

He had only just crossed the line and begun to run. He could not die in a place like this. With his mind burning hot, Najin searched desperately for a way out.

'... Draw the sword.'

And then.

'You can draw it. Draw the sword.'

A voice rang in his ears.

It was the voice that had tormented Najin for thirteen days. He had always resigned himself to his lot, but the yearning even he had never quite let go of echoed in his ears.

... Yes, there was one.

A sword that would never break.

A peerless blade that could withstand his sword aura.

'But that is...'

It was something underground-city trash like him could never dare touch. The moment he touched it, he would die. It was something he must never take hold of. Besides, he wasn't even certain he could draw it.

He must not gamble on something uncertain.

It was something he should never do, and yet...

Najin realized he was already running toward the square. The soldiers who had guarded the sword were nowhere to be seen, as though they had fled. The cloth concealing it must also have come off in the chaos, for the holy sword stood fully revealed.

A holy sword shining platinum.

A sword of stars, with thirteen stars engraved on its blade.

The instant Najin faced Excalibur, his eyes were tinged with platinum. Starlight. Faced with the starlight he had so longed to see, the boy smiled without thinking. It was neither a sneer nor a mocking smile, but a pure one.

The star he had yearned for so deeply.

The moment he faced that star, shining brilliantly even in the dark underground city, the boy's mind went blank. His worries, his anguish, his belief that he must not break the taboo—all of it vanished cleanly. Pure longing filled the space they left behind.

"I'm gonna fucking die anyway."

He would die either way.

If he did nothing, the addicts would catch him and kill him.

If he was going to die anyway...

If he was going to keep crawling along rock bottom only to die there...

"I might as well take a chance."

Najin kicked off the ground.

Having crossed the line and begun to run, the boy no longer thought about what would come afterward. Looking only at the present, Najin ran toward the holy sword.

He was not certain he could draw it, but...

'I can draw it.'

No.

He was certain.

He was certain he could draw the sword.

The instinct that had never once betrayed Najin was shouting that he could draw it. Trusting that instinct as he always had, he reached for the sword embedded in the rock.

Hakan, who had followed Najin to the square, saw it too. At the sight of the boy reaching for Excalibur, she burst out laughing.

Had being cornered finally driven him mad?

However talented he might be, did he really think he could draw that? That holy sword, which had remained embedded for centuries? Hakan sneered at the boy's staggering arrogance.

But the instant the boy's hand closed around the holy sword, Hakan could no longer laugh. Her sneering mouth fell open, and her eyes widened. Shock flooded her face.

DOOONG, DOOOONG...

A majestic bell toll echoed.

With the reverberating toll, an immense wave spread outward from the boy. The addicts it touched were shoved back and knocked over. Unable to keep her balance on the shaking ground, Hakan fell to the ground.

Seated on the ground, Hakan saw it.

The holy sword that began to shine the moment the boy grasped it. The legendary holy sword that began to ring out with a resonance greater than anything else.

Excalibur.

The sword that had been regarded as mere legend because no one had drawn it from the rock for centuries was being pulled into reality by a single boy.

CRUNCH!

The holy sword began to slide free of the rock.