Najin ran through the mine tunnel.

It was the way out of the underground city, and the path Ivan had opened for him. As he ran along it, Najin clenched his teeth.

The boy was no fool.

He understood the resolve and the thoughts that had driven Ivan to open this path. He knew that Ivan would die if he did not kill him. He knew Ivan had been left with no choice.

And yet Ivan had let him go.

That meant Ivan had accepted death.

The anguish on Ivan's face as he raised his sword, his wavering sword tip, the sight of him pushing Najin into the tunnel and blocking its entrance—all of it flashed before Najin's eyes. He clenched his teeth harder.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to ask Ivan why he had made that choice. Why he had risked his life for him. Najin could not understand the reason. The affection built between them over the years could not have been enough to make Ivan let him go.

Honor and pride.

The boy did not yet understand their weight.

He did not understand what Ivan had wished to remain until the very end. But though he could not understand, he remembered that Ivan's eye had shone brighter than ever the moment he made that choice.

「Climb to the highest place.」

「And proclaim from there.」

「That I, Ivan, knight of Atanga, was there.」

The image of a knight speaking of his dream with a shining eye settled deep within Najin's heart. It was the weight of someone's life.

Something that could never grow lighter.

Something he could never forget.

Najin ran, feeling that weight press firmly upon his heart. The tunnel was dark and cold, and it seemed endlessly long. He ran on and on through its blackness, where even the light of the ore lamps had disappeared.

A mercenary and the Knight Who Chased the Stars.

Bearing the weight of those who had risked their lives for him, the boy looked toward the heights. He still could not see the stars, but that no longer mattered.

In a place where no stars could be seen, the boy swore an oath.

He would inscribe a star of his own in that night sky.

He would hang his star in the highest place.

2.

The pursuers who had followed the star arrived one by one.

There stood the entrance to an old mine tunnel that had long been abandoned. It was not difficult to guess that the boy had fled inside. All that remained was the simple task of entering the tunnel and killing him, but...

"..."

None of them dared make a careless move.

Someone stood guarding the tunnel entrance, and the force of his presence was anything but ordinary. The pursuers instinctively knew they would have to bring him down to enter.

CLANG.

One by one, the pursuers drew their swords.

They leveled them at the former knight they had believed to be their ally. But there was one thing they had mistaken.

"I am Ivan."

The man standing before them was not a broken knight who had lost his honor and fallen into the underground city. Though he had lost his honor, he had held on to his pride until the end, and had cast away his life for a star that would shine in the distant future.

A man who had staked his life on keeping his oath.

A man who wished to remain a knight until the very end.

Foolish, yet noble precisely because of that foolishness. Who would dare mock such nobility? Before them stood a knight prepared to die.

"A knight of Atanga."

In the underground city where no stars rose.

In the city of sinners, where only the dim light of ore lamps lay low over the streets.

"Ivan, the Knight Who Chased the Stars."

Sword aura coiled around the knight's blade.

Aura that shone vivid blue. A common color, with nothing extraordinary about it. Something utterly ordinary that could neither light up the underground city like the Sword of Stars in Najin's hand nor resemble starlight like Najin's aura.

But even so.

The sword in Ivan's hand was shining.

"You will not take a single step beyond this point."

Holding a shining sword.

Risking his life to protect something.

In this moment, at least, Ivan could declare it without shame before himself. He could proudly proclaim that he was a knight. A knight of Atanga, and the Knight Who Chased the Stars.

That knowledge made him smile.

The pursuers began charging at the smiling Ivan. More than ten had gathered, and the swords they held were razor-sharp. But Ivan did not retreat a single step.

'A knight of Atanga does not retreat.'

For that was Atanga's pride.

Ivan swung his shining sword. To buy his squire time to escape the city. To give back as much time as he had taken from the boy.

'Come, then. As many of you as you like.'

His pride was not so cheap that he would open the way for those who knew neither honor nor pride.

* * *

Berlo, a knight of the Order.

Arriving late at the place where the starlight had surged upward, Berlo's face instantly hardened. The scene before him was nothing like what he had expected.

Blood splattered everywhere.

Severed arms and legs.

And the sprawled bodies of covert operatives.

Even a cursory count put their number above twenty. Most of the operatives deployed to this city had met their end here. It was a tremendous loss, but one worth bearing if they had achieved their objective.

But it appeared that they had failed in that as well.

There was no corpse of the boy who had drawn the Sword of Stars. Berlo slowly raised his head and looked ahead. The man responsible for this carnage stood there.

Ivan.

At the sight of his old junior guarding the tunnel entrance, Berlo let out a hollow laugh.

"Ha..."

What foolishness was this?

Anger rose in Berlo at Ivan's trampling of the goodwill he had extended. His brow furrowed, his expression twisting.

"Ivan, have you gone mad?"

Ivan did not answer.

"Do you think you can fight me? Are you planning to take on the entire Order? What idiotic—!"

Berlo raked his hair in irritation. Things had gone wrong. This was the mission High Priest Orlan had entrusted to him. He was responsible for it, and at this rate, punishment would be unavoidable.

He had to continue the pursuit, even alone.

He irritably drew his sword and took a step forward. At that moment, Ivan, who had remained silent and motionless, spoke.

"Say, my senior."

Ivan grinned.

Fighting more than ten covert operatives at once had left his body covered in wounds, and blood flowed from a long cut across his shoulder. His breaths were ragged and uneven.

He was utterly exhausted.

Yet his stance had not faltered in the slightest, and the sword in his hand still shone.

"What the hell have you become?"

"... What?"

"I asked what you've become. When you threw away your honor and pride and left the knight order... I wondered what great thing you'd gotten your hands on."

Ivan sneered.

"But it looks like someone got their hands on your leash instead. How are you any different from these corpses lying here? All I see is another hound of the Order."

It was unmistakable mockery and derision.

Berlo's eyes grew bloodshot.

"I cannot let that pass. That is an insult to the Order. I will give you a chance to retract it."

"Hahaha!"

Ivan burst out laughing.

"It seems leaving the Atanga Knight Order made you forget what it means to be a knight, too. If you've forgotten, this unworthy junior of yours will have to teach you himself."

A stance that had not faltered at all.

A gaze that did not waver in the slightest.

A sword that still had not lost its light.

"An insult is washed away in a duel. Honor and pride are proven by the sword. That is the knight's code, you filthy hound of the Order."

"... Ha!"

The provocation had plainly crossed the line. As those abusive words set his head burning, Berlo let out a hollow laugh and released his sword aura. Vivid blue, just like Ivan's. Yet the aura that coiled around Berlo's sword did not shine as Ivan's did.

With his blade sheathed in aura, Berlo advanced toward Ivan. Still, Ivan did not move.

He looked as though a slight push would knock him over, but Berlo knew he must not let down his guard. Even cornered, Ivan's eye still shone. That gaze sent a chill through Berlo.

The force of a man prepared to die. The spirit of one who had sworn not to let go of his sword until the very end.

In the darkness, sword clashed against sword. Fragments of sword aura scattered, and droplets of blood flew. It was a knight's blood, and a knight's life. As their blades clashed, Ivan smiled.

For he could no longer hear them.

The footsteps receding behind his back.

'That bought you your time, you damned squire.'

Where else in the world was there a squire who made the knight he was supposed to serve risk his life for him? That damned brat.

Ivan smiled until the end.

For he had been able to remain a knight until the end.

3.

A waterfall, its waters plunging downward.

Driving stakes into the sheer cliff, Najin descended toward the ground. Even when his hands slipped on the wet rock and spray, he used the rope tied around his body and the momentum of his movements to work his way down, little by little.

His body was exhausted from battle after battle, but he wrung out every last bit of strength he had.

The end of the seemingly endless cliff was coming into view. Najin could see the waterway stretching far into the distance. He descended carefully to the very last.

TAP.

Landing on the ground, Najin gasped for breath. He had gripped the stakes so hard that when he opened his hands, he found the skin of his palms stripped away. He bandaged his bleeding palms, then looked back one last time.

The plunging waterfall.

Najin silently watched it pour in a single direction, as though declaring there was no way back upstream. The underground city where he had been born and spent his childhood. Savoring his memories of that place one last time, he turned away.

Where he needed to look was toward the water's destination.

Once he had begun running, he could neither stop nor turn back. Najin did not know where the flowing water would lead. But though he did not know, he was certain of one thing: there would be stars there.

He ran along the waterway.

And so he reached the end of the path.

The path ended, and a wall blocked Najin's way, but the water still flowed. Offen had told him to hold his breath and dive at the end of the path. Not knowing what lay beyond, Najin felt afraid, but...

"... Whew."

He soon steadied his breathing and leaped into the water.

He surrendered himself to the surging current. The turbulent water swept him away. Carried along by it, Najin opened his eyes a sliver.

He could see nothing. Nothing at all.

He began to feel that he was not merely being swept along, but sinking. His need for air slowly grew. When he reached his limit, Najin lifted his head. What he saw was the surface of the endlessly flowing river.

Something was reflected upon it.

A sparkling light.

Najin moved toward the light. His body, which had seemed to be sinking, slowly began to rise.

"Gah, hah...! Whew...!"

Najin lifted his head above the current and gasped for breath. Struggling to fill his lungs, he slowly moved toward the riverbank. Only after repeatedly failing to grasp the rocks jutting out along the bank, and repeatedly scraping his body against them, did he finally manage to escape the current.

His whole body ached. Unable to stand, Najin lay spread-eagled on the bank, still soaking wet.

As he lay in the field, gasping for breath, Najin realized what the light reflected on the water's surface had been. Blinking again and again, he looked up at the sky for the first time in his eighteen years of life.

The vast expanse of the night sky.

Countless, countless stars were shining there.

Before him lay a sight no sentence he had ever read in a fairy tale could describe.

The night sky he gazed upon for the first time was beautiful.

More beautiful than anything else.