“Would you consider joining the Order of the Sword?”

Najin fell silent at Volkman’s offer. His tone was casual, but Najin knew the offer itself was anything but.

It was a good offer. There was no denying that.

Perhaps this priest named Volkman was exceptional, but crossing swords with him had left Najin with a favorable impression of the Order. He could feel the pure aspiration in the priest before him.

Even when Najin copied his techniques right before his eyes, reducing a lifetime of training to a single instant, Volkman showed no reluctance whatsoever. Instead, he demonstrated an even greater variety of techniques, as if to say, Try copying this one, too.

Having drunk in all those techniques, Najin could not help feeling grateful to Volkman. He even felt a kind of awe. Volkman immersed himself in the sword as though indulging in inferiority, jealousy, or emptiness were itself a waste. That was worthy of respect.

... It was certainly an appealing offer.

Of course, not everyone in the Order would be like Volkman, but at least it was a place where only those sincere about the sword gathered. Neither connections nor origins mattered there. If he joined, he might be able to grow steadily under its protection.

—“...”

Najin deliberated, and Merlin remained silent.

Merlin was only a guide; she did not force him down a path. The choice of which road to take belonged entirely to the one walking it.

An appealing offer. An easy, secure path.

Gazing at the well-paved road laid out before him, Najin soon gave a bitter smile. He knew.

“I’m sorry.”

He knew full well that a path like this would never take him to the heights he sought.

“I can’t accept your offer.”

Najin bowed his head to Volkman.

Joining the Order of the Sword and advancing through secluded training facing a wall would be an easy, simple path. But that was not what Najin wanted.

He had only just emerged into the world. He needed to see much and experience much. Only by experiencing the world and learning about it could he venture somewhere wider. To reach greater heights, he had to walk a rough, dangerous road, not an easy, simple one.

‘Just as King Arthur did.’

The same path as Arthur. That was the road Najin had sworn to walk.

When he raised his head again, Volkman was smiling at him.

“If that’s your decision, there’s nothing to be done. It is a shame, but you must have your own way of doing things.”

He did not seem disappointed by the refusal. Rather, he stroked his beard as though, for some reason, he had expected it. Then he gave a brief “Ah” and spoke.

“Ivan, you intend to stay in this city, I take it?”

“Yes. For at least a year or so.”

“That’s quite a specific period. Is there something you’re aiming for?”

After a moment’s consideration, Najin answered. Surely he need not worry about what others thought merely to state his ambition.

“I intend to reach White Horn rank.”

White Horn rank. The pinnacle of Cambria, the City of Opportunity—a rank reserved for fighters of Sword Seeker caliber.

Hearing Najin’s ambition, Volkman burst out laughing.

The young man before him was a novice among novices, holding a Black Horn nameplate that had only just been dyed black. Yet he was declaring that he would stand at the city’s pinnacle in a mere year.

It was a preposterous fantasy, a claim anyone would ridicule. But Volkman did not mock Najin. Instead, he laughed heartily and clapped Najin on the shoulder with his rough hand.

“Of course! A man should dream big.”

The young man before him had talent.

Reaching White Horn rank within a year might be impossible, of course. Still, it would not take this young man very long to rise to the top of the city.

‘He seems to be close to Sword Expert...’

He could not be certain, having never seen him produce sword aura, but how many years would the young man need to become a Sword Seeker? Volkman tried to estimate the time, then shook his head. Measuring a genius by an ordinary man’s standards was foolish.

Above all, he seemed to be hiding a great deal. His name, his age, even his level of attainment—Volkman could be certain of none of them.

‘He is suspicious, but...’

None of that mattered. The young man was sincere about the sword.

Volkman had learned that by crossing blades with him. His approach to learning swordsmanship was earnest, and Volkman had felt his tenacity in pushing his body to its limits rather than resting on his talent.

“In that case...”

Volkman liked Najin. And so he made him another offer.

“Allow me to help you.”

“... Pardon?”

“I visit this city from time to time, looking for opportunities to test my sword. Not often, but about once a month. Whenever I come, I’ll take a look at your swordsmanship.”

“That’s...”

“I’m saying I’ll be your swordsmanship teacher. Though it feels as if you’ve already wrung every last thing out of me today.”

Volkman shrugged with a wry smile.

“Once you can produce sword aura, it will be another matter. I haven’t shown you any swordsmanship using aura yet.”

“I would be truly grateful, but...”

Najin hesitated.

“Is there a reason you’re doing so much for me?”

The arrangement favored him far too much. What could Volkman possibly gain from it? Reading that question in Najin’s eyes, Volkman curled his lips into a smile.

“Didn’t you know all the Precepts of the Sword? Surely you didn’t memorize only the ones useful for challenging me to a duel?”

Stung, Najin lowered his gaze slightly, and Volkman chuckled. He already knew that Najin had drawn him into their bout with a shallow trick. Even so, he had crossed swords with him simply because there was no reason to refuse.

“There is a line in the Precepts of the Sword.”

Volkman stroked his sword’s hilt.

“Those who seek instruction recognize neither high nor low.”

Whether the other person was a peerless genius, a back-alley vagabond, or a pupil he himself had taught... if they held a sword, there was something to learn from them.

“Sparring with you benefited me as well. Thanks to you, I feel as though my sword has grown sharper. If anything, I’m the one who should be asking you.”

“If that’s the case...”

Najin smiled and took Volkman’s offered hand.

“I look forward to learning from you.”

“That’s my line, Ivan.”

2.

“I somehow ended up with a swordsmanship teacher.”

—“The knights of the Round Table loved people like him. Bedivere in particular went absolutely wild whenever he met one.”

Merlin muttered in disbelief.

—“Something about romance, or whatever. Apparently, seeing people live madly devoted to a single pursuit set his heart ablaze?”

Anyway.

Merlin let out a short breath and spoke.

—“You were pretty good back there.”

‘What was?’

—“You know. Turning down that priest fellow, Volkman or whatever. That was pretty good.”

When Najin seemed not to understand what she meant, Merlin answered a little awkwardly.

—“What you said to yourself. About the difficult, treacherous road being worthwhile. I liked that part.”

‘You heard that?’

—“I hear almost everything you mutter to yourself. So don’t even think about bad-mouthing me.”

What a sneaky mage.

—“I told you I can hear you! Do you have a death wish?”

Najin laughed at Merlin’s threat.

Chatting with her, he approached the guild counter. He handed over the sacks containing the orcs’ heads and collected his payment for completing the commission.

CLICK

He inserted his nameplate into the magical device on the guild counter. The number rose, updating his information. When he operated the device, a full list of his completed commissions appeared. For now, it was filled with nothing but insignificant errands.

‘It’s about time I took on some proper commissions.’

It was time to raise his rank. Only then could he take higher-level commissions and experience a wider variety of things.

Black. Purple. Blue. Green. Red. White.

The ranking system had six tiers.

Advancing to Purple, his immediate next goal, was not particularly difficult. If he kept completing commissions like this, one after another, he would reach it soon enough.

But he had no intention of taking his time.

He had acquired a basic knowledge of the outside world. He was steadily building on his mana training method and swordsmanship, and he had a rough understanding of how this city worked.

That was enough, Najin thought.

He had no intention of hiding his strength forever, much less settling for simple commissions. What mattered to him now was experience—the experience he could gain in actual combat.

Even if he kept Excalibur and his platinum sword aura hidden, showing a fragment of sword aura should be all right.

‘I wish I could take a higher-ranked commission.’

The problem was that Najin was unproven.

He could accept simple commissions freely, but mercenaries and adventurers ultimately made their living on trust. That meant he needed to build a certain track record before he could take proper commissions.

And Najin had no track record yet. Even if he suddenly demonstrated a fragment of sword aura, no one would entrust an important commission to him without one.

‘Still, if I look, there should be at least one...’

As Najin browsed the commission list at the guild counter, he sensed a presence behind him. Someone approached and tapped his shoulder.

He turned his head. Standing there was a girl with a familiar face. Unlike last time, when she had worn her light brown hair loose, it was now tied neatly into a single ponytail. Her vivid yellow eyes gleamed.

“Fancy meeting you here again.”

The owner of the Dieta Trading Company, Dieta Arbenia, was smiling at Najin.

“It looks like you’re searching for a worthwhile commission.”

She pointed to the nameplate pinned to her chest.

A guild-certified head of one of the city’s three largest trading companies. He had not known it at their first meeting, but now Najin understood just how much power the girl before him wielded in this city.

“Would you like to make a deal with me?”

She busied herself pulling off her gloves, then held out her bare hand to Najin.

“You won’t turn me down this time, will you?”

3.

The headquarters of the Order of the Sword.

Returning to the Order late at night, Volkman unpacked his belongings and went straight to the training room. Throughout the carriage ride, he had replayed his bout with Najin over and over in his mind.

‘I want to swing my sword!’

An insight that felt as though a single breath might blow it away.

Determined to engrave that insight into his body at once, Volkman ran to the training room and swung his sword. In the deserted room late at night, he continued swinging for some time.

The young man he had met in Cambria, the City of Opportunity.

Volkman might have been a fortuitous encounter for him, but the young man had been one for Volkman as well. Thanks to their bout, he could feel that the paths his sword traced had become far more precise.

“Whew.”

After swinging his sword to his satisfaction, he was wiping away his sweat when a voice came from behind him.

“Training the moment you return. Just like you.”

“... You were there?”

Volkman turned around. Though he had sensed no presence, his old friend stood there. The swordsman was in his forties, just like him, yet could easily have passed for a man in his twenties. Stroking his chin, he narrowed his eyes.

“Your sword has grown sharper, hasn’t it? Did you gain some insight?”

As he spoke, he shook the bottle of liquor in his hand.

An invitation to have a drink. Opening a bottle in the training room would surely earn them a scolding from the high-ranking priests, but Volkman chuckled and accepted the cup his friend offered.

Even the high-ranking priests would not be able to say a word to the man waving that cup.

“I seized a good opportunity and gained some insight.”

“Oh? A good opportunity?”

“Indeed. I met a certain young man in Cambria...”

Volkman spoke as he tipped his cup.

Normally, he would not have told anyone about the young man he had met in Cambria. His talent was dangerous. Someone might envy it and try to force him into the Order.

But the man before him was different. Volkman knew he was not that sort of person, nor was he so small-minded as to envy another’s talent.

“An extraordinary young man. He claimed to be in his late twenties, but no matter how I looked at him, he seemed to be a teenager.”

“Is that so?”

“He wrung every last trick out of me, you know? Copied the swordsmanship I’ve spent my whole life honing, right before my eyes. I was dumbfounded. He’ll go far. He has a strong desire to learn, too.”

The man listened with interest. Tipping his cup, he smiled.

“How intriguing. If you speak so highly of him, he must be no ordinary fellow.”

He knew his old friend Volkman rarely spoke this way. Volkman was a priest who swung his sword with simple honesty, never exaggerating anything.

“Did you say you would visit every month?”

“That’s my intention.”

“Then I’ll accompany you the next time you go to that city. I’d like to meet this young man at least once.”

“... You will?”

“Cambria, the City of Opportunity. I passed through there once myself, didn’t I? It would be nice to visit again after so long.”

Beyond the training room’s wide-open window, six stars twinkled in the vast night sky. They belonged to the man gazing up at the heavens, shining for him alone.

The master of the Order of the Sword. The pinnacle of the Order, who had shattered every record to become the youngest Sword Master.

“After all, who knows?”

The swordsman who possessed six stars—Karon, the Sword Saint—smiled.

“Perhaps that young man will prove a fortuitous encounter for me as well.”