By the time they reached Cambria, the sun had already set. Since the Central Guild had closed, the Red Eye Mercenary Company put off reporting the commission until tomorrow and headed straight for a tavern. Having a drink after a job was a mercenary tradition.

Najin was among them. Of course, he wanted to return to the inn and get some proper rest... but Roselin Ascalo, the company's commander, had an arm hooked around his neck and showed no intention of letting him go.

"The drinks here are fantastic. I'm a regular. A regular!"

Humming to herself, Roselin flung open the tavern door. The place was empty because she had booked it in advance. The members of the Red Eye Mercenary Company took their seats one after another. Roselin plopped down at the center of all those tables and seated Najin beside her. Having dozens of members looking at him all at once felt strangely suffocating.

"Heh. Commander, you really took a liking to him, huh?"

"You fought the Bloodred Troll one-on-one? Damn, you've got a hell of a romantic streak, you bastard. What's your name?"

"Heard he even produced sword aura."

"He's too good to be stuck at Black."

Voices murmured around him. Mercenaries approached, swirling the beer in their mugs, and lingered around Najin as though he were a curiosity. He glanced sideways at their nameplates.

'The lowest rank is Green.'

Most wore Red-rank nameplates, and their presence resembled that of Sword Experts. Najin was inwardly astonished.

'They say the Red Eye Mercenary Company has fighting strength to rival most knight orders... Looks like it's true.'

-Merlin: They're certainly good. Especially that woman who commands them.

Roselin Ascalo. The company built around her certainly lived up to its reputation. Its members were fighters who stood among the strongest in the city.

"Out of the way, you big lumps!"

As Najin was assessing the company's strength, Roselin waved away the members gathered around him. Once the chuckling mercenaries had returned to their seats, she propped her chin on her hand and stared at him.

"Ivan, was it?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And you're twenty-eight."

Najin nodded, and Roselin laughed.

"Twenty-eight with that face? Bullshit. You look twenty at most."

"... I'm twenty-eight."

"Sure you are. You'd have to be, to explain how far you've come."

Roselin said casually,

"You're a Sword Expert."

"..."

"You can produce complete sword aura, can't you? You're deliberately not doing it. Those fragments of yours are so well-formed that it makes no sense for you to be unable to produce the real thing."

She narrowed her eyes.

He might fool the average adventurer, but he could not fool her. For all her frivolous behavior, she was a Sword Seeker: a fighter who stood between human and superhuman, someone who had mastered the mysteries of the sword.

"A kid who looks twenty at most is a Sword Expert... and uses both the Order of the Sword's swordsmanship and Atanga's?"

It felt as though she were laying him bare. Najin steadied his breathing and met her gaze. Her narrowed eyes gleamed red.

"Heh."

Smiling at his wariness, Roselin took a long drink. She let out a lengthy, satisfied sigh and slapped him across the back.

"Why so tense? Who said I was going to eat you?"

Najin rubbed his back. Her slap had quite a sting to it.

"I'm just saying. Who in this city doesn't have a story? I'm sure you've got yours. I'm not going to pry or dig into it. Why would I bother?"

"By that standard, I'm a pretty serious case myself."

Muttering this, Roselin Ascalo pointed at her eyes. Roselin of the Red Eyes. Until she named her mercenary company Red Eye, that epithet had been little better than an insult to her.

The land where the Witch of Camlann had been born. Red eyes were practically a mark identifying its inhabitants.

"I'm not trying to threaten you. I brought you here to talk over a drink, that's all. Relax. Want some?"

"I've never had alcohol before."

"You little greenhorn... You don't even know what booze tastes like?"

Roselin sighed.

"If you're going to pass yourself off as twenty-eight, you need to know how to drink. Come on, have one."

"Like I said, I've never—"

"When an adult offers you something, you take it, brat."

Najin groaned as Roselin forced a mug into his hand. He was old enough to drink under imperial law, but it held no particular appeal.

CLINK.

More or less forced to clink mugs with Roselin, Najin tipped his back. It went down refreshingly, but it did not taste particularly good. It simply felt cool.

"There you go. You drink well."

Grinning, Roselin refilled his mug. Since it went down easily enough, Najin drank it like water. How many mugs had he had by now? Roselin and the members drinking with them were getting tipsy, but Najin was perfectly fine.

"Damn, this bastard just won't get drunk..."

Roselin hiccupped and stared at him in disbelief. She had meant to get him a little drunk before having a conversation, but his complexion had not even changed.

Najin was puzzled himself. People said drinking made you feel intoxicated, but he felt nothing of the sort.

-Oh, right.

Merlin whispered in his ear.

-You probably can't get drunk at all.

'What? Why?'

-Excalibur's basic blessings are purification and healing. Maybe they respond to intoxication too, because Arthur never got drunk either.

-Lancelot threw drinking parties day and night trying to get Arthur drunk, but he failed in the end.

Najin smiled at Merlin's muttering. Somehow, he felt he had seen something similar in the storybook.

"Tch. Hic."

Resting her chin on her hand, Roselin glanced at Najin.

"Where did you learn Atanga's swordsmanship?"

"Someone I knew was a knight of Atanga."

"Really? Did that person teach you the sword?"

"Not properly, but..."

Najin smiled.

"He taught me plenty of other things. And he gave me more than I could ever repay."

"Sounds like a decent teacher."

"He was an excellent teacher."

Ivan and Offen. It was thanks to those two that he could be here now. Najin let out a long breath.

"That teacher of yours, the Atanga knight, must have liked you quite a bit too."

"Pardon?"

"That technique you were about to use is what Atanga calls a sword bound by precepts. That's why I stopped you from using it against the troll. It isn't meant for that."

Roselin murmured, her chin still resting on her hand.

"It's for punishing villains who abandon honor and pride and disgrace the name of knight... or for a proud opponent worth facing with everything you've got."

In other words,

"It's a technique you only show to someone you acknowledge as a worthy rival. I take it he never explained that part?"

"... Really?"

"Really. They don't show it lightly. I've only seen it three or four times myself."

Najin fell silent for a moment.

The swordsmanship he had intended to use against the troll was the technique Ivan had used at the final hurdle in his escape from the underground city. Ivan had met Excalibur head-on and pushed it back instead. Atanga's swordsmanship had shattered Najin's all-out attack in a direct clash.

Even now, it was the technique he thought of whenever he imagined the strongest possible strike. Ivan's sword had been that heavy, that powerful.

'A technique used only against someone you acknowledge as a worthy rival.'

Najin found himself smiling bitterly at the thought that Ivan had probably used it in that second sense. It meant Ivan had acknowledged him at the very last moment.

"Enough chitchat."

Roselin stretched.

"Ivan."

Letting out a long breath, she called his name.

"Any interest in joining the Red Eye Mercenary Company?"

2.

The moment she made the offer, the tavern went quiet. The mercenaries drinking from their mugs watched Najin without a word. The mood had settled in an instant. He met Roselin's gleaming eyes.

The Red Eye Mercenary Company. It was not a bad choice, but naturally, his answer would be the same. Unfazed by the gathered gazes, Najin answered briefly.

"I'm not looking to join anything yet."

"Wow, that was a quick rejection. Most people at least say they'll think about it, even when they're turning me down."

Roselin chuckled. The members watching them burst into laughter too, saying the commander had been rejected. Their reaction suggested they had more or less expected it.

The Red Eye Mercenary Company was an attractive prospect to the city's adventurers... but not so attractive to someone aiming for the summit. And the members had already guessed that the young man before them was ambitious enough to aim for that summit. The youth who had faced the Bloodred Troll and claimed an overwhelming first-place victory had a stubbornness unlike that of ordinary adventurers.

"Well, come find me if you change your mind. The offer will still stand."

Roselin shrugged as she said it.

"Anyway, the first-place prize was a chance to join the Red Eye Mercenary Company... Guess I'll have to change that. Let's keep it simple and use that instead. Varger? Come here a second."

"What is it now?"

"You know, that thing. The one with my name on it."

Deputy Commander Varger sighed and handed Roselin a sheet of paper. It was a certificate bearing her name. She passed it on to Najin.

"This lets you borrow my name once. Put another way, you can think of it as a chance to ask me for one favor."

It was similar to what Dieta had given him, but different in nature. This allowed him to borrow Roselin's name once, whatever the circumstances.

"You get to borrow the name of one of this city's pinnacles. That's a huge opportunity, you know? Use it when you really need it."

That was everything she had intended to say. Finished, Roselin let out a short breath.

"Come to think of it, I've been asking all the questions. Is there anything you want to know? Ask me whatever you like. I'll give you a straight answer to one or two."

"There is one thing."

Najin lowered his gaze to Roselin's waist, where two hilts protruded behind her lower back.

"Those weapons. What exactly do they do?"

"Oh, these?"

She tapped the protruding hilts with her fingers, then drew the blades with a metallic ring and drove them shallowly into the tabletop. The blades slid smoothly into the wood. At the proprietor's sharp glare, Roselin waved a hand and said, "Sorry, sorry," before turning back.

"You want to know about these weapons?"

"... Commander."

"It's fine, Varger. My Masterpiece is well known anyway. What matters is how you use it."

Dismissing her deputy's objection, Roselin began.

"Kid, do you know what a Masterpiece is?"

"I know they're weapons that possess mystery."

"You know your stuff. Usually, a Masterpiece's mystery is more useful the better you hide it, but mine's a little different. Its previous wielder was so famous that all its mysteries were revealed."

Echo had originally been the Masterpiece wielded by a champion of the Allied Nations several hundred years ago.

"So, well, I'll tell you."

Roselin smiled.

"Masterpiece Number Twenty-One, Echo."

She flicked the spines of the twin blades with a finger. A bright metallic ring echoed through the tavern in overlapping layers, just like the sound Najin had heard in the forest.

"As its name suggests, Echo makes anything echo. Sound, impact, even mana."

"Then that technique in the forest..."

"Right. I made my sword aura resonate with the echoes from the blades striking each other. It's a technique that spreads sword aura through sound... but the details are my secret, so I'd rather not tell you. You understand, right?"

Najin nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the pitch-black blades embedded in the table. They fascinated him.

"You seem pretty interested in Masterpieces."

"They're fascinating. And I've never seen one before."

"True, they're not something you see every day. Since you're interested, here's a little more about them..."

Roselin pointed at the Masterpiece's blades.

"These weapons are at least thousands, even tens of thousands of years old, but there's not the slightest wear on their blades, right? That's one of a Masterpiece's properties."

"Properties?"

"They're incredibly hard to break. They'd probably come through a Sword Master's sword aura unscathed. Nearly indestructible."

Nearly indestructible. That meant they were not completely indestructible.

"They can break?"

"It's extremely rare, but apparently they can."

Roselin nodded.

"They say that if Masterpieces clash repeatedly, one can break. But most of the historical records describe them being shattered in clashes with weapons of a 'higher order.'"

... Weapons of a higher order?

Najin tilted his head. Merlin's laughter sounded in his ears, brimming with confidence.

"What are higher-order weapons?"

"You'll know what I mean when you hear the names. There are two main examples."

Roselin smiled.

"One is Gram, the demonic sword and holy sword said to have belonged to the first Sword Saint. And the other... well, it's the most famous one."

The most famous sword in history.

"Excalibur, the Sword of Stars."

The pinnacle of all weapons, a sword beyond the laws of the world that had brought eternal death to undying demons. Najin caught his breath the moment she said Excalibur.

"Masterpieces, Constellations' holy relics—it doesn't matter. Before Excalibur, they're just lumps of metal. It probably shattered at least five Masterpieces over the course of history."

Najin silently asked Merlin whether that was true.

-Seven, not five, but yes. There were a few cases where demons or fallen constellations wielded Masterpieces.

'When I used it, it couldn't even cut through an ordinary longsword.'

-That's because you don't have any stars yet.

Merlin answered as though he had asked something obvious.

-You need stars to draw out Excalibur's true capabilities. Right now, what you're swinging is probably just a holy sword with demon-slaying, healing, and purification effects.

That alone seemed impressive enough.

"Speaking of which."

Roselin snapped her fingers as though something had come back to her.

"Varger, didn't someone draw Excalibur recently? Have they found out who it was?"

"Not yet. If they had, the whole continent would be in an uproar."

"True. But, well... wasn't it probably one of the Sword Masters? Seems like they're hiding it."

"That's how it looks to me too. Perhaps it was Sir Gerd, the imperial Sword Master?"

Listening absently to Varger and Roselin's conversation, Najin rubbed his wrist. The constellation etched there was visible only to him, but he covered it with his palm all the same.

3.

Early morning. Listening to the birds chirping, Najin blinked his hollow eyes. The mercenaries had drunk all night, and he was the only one among them still in his right mind.

"Ughhh..."

Roselin, groaning from her hangover, was riding on Najin's back. This was the price of drinking nonstop all night in an attempt to get him drunk.

"Please wake up."

"The guild... Just get me to the guild. I have to stamp your commission completion."

Najin sighed. As he carried her toward the Central Guild, he heard a retching noise behind him.

"Urgh... Hey, put me down. Ughhh."

Roselin rapidly tapped his shoulder with her palm. When he set her down, she crouched in the corner of an alley and began dry-heaving.

"Pat my back. Urgh..."

Sighing, Najin patted Roselin's back. Crouched in an alley, holding back her falling hair as she retched, she looked rather pitiful.

'This is... one of the pinnacles of the city of adventurers?'

He had thought the White Horn rank he aspired to would be something a little more impressive. As an inexplicable sense of emptiness settled over him—

"Oh?"

A voice came from behind him. Najin stopped patting Roselin's back and turned. A girl with a familiar face stood there.

Dieta, the Snake That Swallows Gold.

Dressed differently than usual, in attire befitting the head of the Dieta Trading Company, she had been on her way to the Central Guild. Recognizing Najin, she waved.

"We meet again... here...?"

But her cheerful voice gradually faded. She had recognized the woman whose back Najin was patting: that wily woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties but was actually twice that age.

Jet-black hair falling to her lower back. Casual, easygoing clothes without a trace of formality. Pale, smooth skin despite being at least twice Dieta's age. And, on top of it all, those unpleasant red eyes.

Certain that the woman with Najin was the very woman she knew, Dieta narrowed her eyes.

"... Roselin Ascalo?"

The moment Dieta murmured the name—

"What? Who called m—Bleeeargh!"