The instant Najin brought his sword down, sword aura erupted from its tip. Unlike Alderan’s, it could not split the world, cleave heaven and earth, or even shatter everything it touched...

Nevertheless, it was unmistakably the ultimate technique of the Triumphant Sword.

No one who witnessed that strike could have thought Najin a mere Sword Seeker. The sword aura he unleashed raced toward Alderan, cleaving the ground. This was no feat a Sword Seeker could perform.

A strike approaching the level of a Sword Master.

A strike drawing infinitely close to transcendence.

A human who had not transcended challenged transcendence. He hurled himself against an insurmountable wall. In return, Najin bore the full recoil of the technique.

Tiny blood vessels burst, staining his vision red. Wounds opened all over his body, spraying blood. His planted foot broke beneath the weight with a crunch, and a series of snapping sounds came from his sword arm as its muscles tore.

At the cost of all that, Najin’s sword aura raced onward. Opposite it, Alderan’s sword aura surged like a wave, shattering everything it touched.

At last, the two straight lines collided.

The technique was named Triumphant Return: to return victorious. As two techniques symbolizing victory collided, naturally, both could not prevail. If one won, the other had to lose.

And the outcome, naturally, was...

CRACK.

Najin’s defeat. The deadlock created by the colliding sword auras lasted less than a second. Cracks spread through Najin’s aura like a pane of glass before it shattered to pieces.

The result was only natural.

However close he had come to transcendence, Najin had not attained it. He could not inscribe laws upon the sword he swung, nor did he fully understand the weapon called a sword. A vast gulf lay between him and Alderan.

Even borrowing the power of mana, starlight, and sword aura could not fill that gulf. It could not, but...

CRUNCH.

He could at least build a bridge across it. Najin’s sword aura had marred Alderan’s, turning a perfect strike into an imperfect one. Though it could not shatter everything it touched as Alderan’s did, Najin’s sword aura had succeeded in opening a tiny gap in a transcendent being’s ultimate technique.

And, as always...

TAP.

Najin did not let that opening slip away.

As his sword aura shattered around him with the sound of breaking glass, he stepped forward. He put his weight behind that first step, then pushed off the ground with his second. Najin charged toward the wave surging at him.

His reaction, at least, was faster than Alderan’s. From the outset, Najin had prepared a second strike. Unlike Alderan, who meant to finish things with a single blow, Najin had considered what would come next.

An oncoming wave.

A vast obstacle barring his path.

As chance would have it, Najin possessed a technique that could pierce that obstacle. In the direction he was running stood a spear he had planted in the earth before the battle began: the cross-star spear he had received from Krünbel, the Knight of Silence.

BOOM!

Carrying the momentum of his charge, Najin stamped down on the ground. The planted spear sprang free with a twang and flew toward him. Catching it in one hand, he spun once on the spot, channeling that rotation into the spear’s tip.

He called to mind Krünbel, the Knight of Silence.

Remembering the tempest Krünbel had shown him, Najin thrust the spear forward.

Battering Ram.

The horn mounted on a ship’s prow cleaved the waves. A tempest erupted from the spear’s tip and slammed into the tiny flaw in the wave of sword aura. The existing crack spread wide with a resounding crack.

At that instant, Najin’s star shone.

Breakthrough: the star that collided and broke through. The star he had gained by surpassing Krünbel shone all the fiercer the moment he borrowed Krünbel’s technique.

CRASH!

With the sound of shattering glass, a portion of the sword aura broke away. It had not been destroyed completely, but a gap wide enough for one person had opened.

The way was clear.

Najin ran down the path Battering Ram had made.

2.

Najin ran, but not with his usual speed.

His leg twisted, making him stagger. He could not plant his broken leg properly. Time and again, he nearly fell before barely recovering his balance. He ran almost dragging his limping foot behind him.

It was a wretched charge, whether judged by a Sword Master or by Najin himself, a Sword Seeker.

It could not be helped. With his body already at its limit, he had imitated a Sword Master’s ultimate technique and a transcendent being’s spearmanship. Without Excalibur’s healing power, he would have fallen flat long ago.

But in battle, physical condition was always relative.

Alderan was little different. His body was far from sound. If anything, he was worse off than Najin, not better. Alderan, whose body crumbled and scattered dust with every movement, and Najin, who shed blood every time he moved, were moving at much the same speed.

Battered beyond recognition. Their limits reached long ago.

Yet the duel remained undecided.

CLAAANG!

Finally closing the distance, Najin rushed in and swung his sword. He crossed blades with Alderan, beginning an exchange of swordplay. At such close quarters, there was no room for grand techniques. Even in the brief instant between breathing out and drawing another breath, their swords had to clash several times.

At this distance, pure swordsmanship would decide the duel.

CLANG! CLATTER!

Their swords lunged at each other as though seeking to devour one another.

Ordinarily, Najin could not defeat a Sword Master in a contest of technique. A Sword Master’s skill would naturally be superior.

Yet from the beginning of the duel until now, Najin had not been greatly outmatched in these close exchanges. It would have been impossible against another Sword Master. It was only possible because his opponent was Alderan.

After all, he had learned from the man himself.

Alderan had already taught Najin everything: how to face him, what his weaknesses were, how to receive his sword, and how to break through his guard. He had passed it all on.

CLANG!

While receiving those lessons—or perhaps even earlier—Najin had sensed it. His journey with the Helmeted Knight would end this way.

CLANG! CLATTER!

This had been training between a pupil and his master.

A journey between a knight and an apprentice knight.

“Gh, ugh!”

And, at the same time, a funeral. Preparing for his own end, Alderan had handed Najin his possessions one by one. He had given him Krünbel’s spear, taught him the Triumphant Sword, and told him about himself.

Now Najin knew the person called the Helmeted Knight.

He remembered the Empire’s hero, Alderan Basaglia.

All that remained was to end this duel so Alderan could die a knight instead of becoming one of the Lost. Hoping Alderan would remain a knight to the very end, Najin swung his sword.

CLANG...

His body was heavy. The world visible through his wide-open eyes was narrow. The sound of clashing swords rang like an echo. As his awareness faded, Najin’s body moved of its own accord.

Parry, deflect, press in, retreat.

Dodge this, block that...

Every instant was a succession of choices. Meeting the Sword Master’s blade, Najin advanced. As always, he pressed onward without yielding before an overwhelming foe. The heavens recognized this as a great feat.

His fourth star, on the verge of completion, shone.

Indomitable.

Only one step remained before that star was complete. Ironically, the one who supplied that step was not Najin, but the opponent crossing swords with him. Alderan’s fallen star blazed fiercely one last time.

A star that had never retreated.

A star that had yielded to no one.

The star Alderan had once possessed, only to lose it the day he knelt before the Emperor of Revelry, shone. Its name, too, was Indomitable. A fallen star was drawn to a rising one. A dead star became nourishment for a new star.

Drinking in that starlight, Najin’s star reached completion.

Indomitable: the star that would not yield.

THUD.

Najin planted his foot hard. The starlight supported his body, which had seemed ready to collapse, then forcibly drove it onward despite its limits. The difference that starlight made was not great.

At most, a single step.

But that one step decided the outcome.

Najin moved one step ahead of Alderan. His suddenly accelerating sword reached its destination one step before Alderan’s. Trailing a constellation, his blade swept through a long arc.

SLICE.

Najin’s blade cut through Alderan’s heart. The constellation following it set Alderan’s body ablaze.

3.

The duel was over.

The victor and the defeated had been decided.

Letting go of his sword, Najin caught Alderan as he fell forward. Alderan’s body was crumbling along the sword wound Najin had carved into it. Burning pure white, his body was light—so light that Najin was startled as he held him.

“... Ah.”

Alderan’s lips parted.

No expression could be read on his monstrous face, but the breath he released was light.

“I have lost.”

The voice speaking now did not belong to the Helmeted Knight who had traveled with Najin. With his awareness clouded, he had no memories of Najin. Only memories of his days as a knight remained.

“I lost.”

Alderan, the knight, spoke.

Even as he acknowledged his defeat, his voice was light. As though laying down a burden he had carried for a long time, he murmured with a faint laugh.

“That was superb. Utterly so.”

With those final words, his body went limp.

Death caught up with Alderan. For a while, Najin held his corpse without a word. He had won the duel, but he could not rejoice. Najin gritted his teeth.

Looking up at the sky with his teeth clenched, he saw his stars, now four in number. With Alderan’s end, Najin had gained a star. And it did not stop at one.

Beside those four stars, another light was gathering.

In a single battle, Najin had accomplished two great feats. One was Indomitable. The remaining star had yet to rise, but Najin could dimly sense the name of that star which would rise before long...

Funeral Rites.

Ever since setting foot in the Outer Lands, Najin had been granting death to the Lost. Schlein, the Knight of the Starfire; Krünbel, the Knight of Silence; and now Alderan Basaglia, the Empire’s foremost warrior. Najin had given them the ends they desired.

People who had forgotten themselves, or were forgetting.

Fulfilling dreams even they themselves had forgotten was by no means easy. It was exceedingly difficult. Having accomplished that difficult task time and again, Najin’s journey deserved to be called a great feat.

A fifth star stood on the verge of completion.

One more catalyst would complete it.

He had gained much from this battle: one star and another nearing completion, a Sword Master’s swordsmanship, the ultimate technique of the Triumphant Sword, and countless other techniques besides. Through this single battle, Najin’s swordsmanship had advanced several stages.

Yet despite all he had gained, Najin could not rejoice.

What he had lost was just as great.

Najin slowly laid Alderan’s body on the ground. Then, among the military banners wrapped around him, he untied the banner of the Order of the Golden Horn—the one bound most tightly—and took it in his hand.

“...”

After releasing a long breath, Najin knelt on one knee before Alderan.

“His name is Alderan Basaglia. His title is the Empire’s foremost warrior, his star is named the Star of the First Horn, and he belongs to the Order of the Golden Horn.”

Najin recited a eulogy.

“He was commander of the Order of the Golden Horn, a knight who knew pride and honor. He never yielded to anyone, and not even a hundred and fifty years could bring him to his knees. To the very end, he was the Empire’s hero.”

Najin knew little about eulogies. He did not know how to praise another’s achievements or dress them in fine words. He knew no elegant flourishes, nor how to embellish his sentences.

Nevertheless, he recited a eulogy as best he could. Recalling the funeral tribute Alderan had spoken, he continued. After a little while, however, Najin closed his mouth.

No. This was not right.

He did not want to adorn this man’s end by imitating someone else. Clutching the banner of the Order of the Golden Horn tightly, Najin spoke.

“Until your final moment, you wished to be a knight.”

Najin managed a faint smile.

“To the very, very end, you were a knight.”

And so...

“Rest in...”

Rest in peace, Master.

That was what Najin meant to say. But the words never reached their end—not because Najin could not say them, but because a loud noise drowned out his voice.

HA HA! HA HA HA HA!

Laughter rang out.

SCREECH! RATTLE! BOOM! CRASH! TRRRR! HEE, HEE HEE HEE! HA, HA HA HA! AH, AH HA HA!

The jesters’ laughter echoed. Somewhere, musical instruments began to sound. Their racket was deafening, closer to noise than music. The discord echoed in Najin’s ears.

Then a star flashed in the sky.

Radiance from stars shining in every color, like bursting fireworks, stained the sky. No other stars were visible in that sky, which looked smeared with paint.

Only a single constellation shone.

A constellation of ten stars.

The Emperor of Revelry.

The paint-stained sky tore open.