A knight of Atanga.

The moment that name left Najin's mouth, Berheigen's eyes wavered. Atanga had already pursued him this far? That should have been impossible. Impatience and anxiety roiled through his mind.

But even a fallen veteran was still a veteran.

Berheigen, too, was a knight, one who had even commanded a knight order. It did not take him long to sort through his confused thoughts and regain his composure.

'He said he was a squire.'

An advance scout for the knight order, or merely bluffing.

It made no difference. The presence he sensed from the young man before him seemed insignificant. Either way, the right course was to dispose of him quickly and flee.

An assessment, then a conclusion.

All of it took barely two seconds.

He had judged quickly and responded quickly. But time was always relative. Najin's words were no bluff meant to sound Berheigen out. He had merely stated his identity before the fight.

In other words, by the time he spoke those words, Najin was already prepared for battle.

BOOM!

Two seconds. More than enough time to close the distance. Najin covered over ten paces in an instant. By the time Berheigen reached his decision, Najin was already right in front of him, swinging his sword.

"...!"

Fast. Faster than expected.

Berheigen's eyes widened. There was not enough time to counterattack. He drew his arms inward to protect his neck and heart. As long as those remained intact, he could regenerate any other injury.

SLASH!

Najin's sword, imbued with sword aura, swept past Berheigen's forearm, leaving a shallow cut.

Shallow, just as expected.

Seeing that his arm had not been severed, Berheigen smiled. The speed was certainly impressive, but he had realized that the sword aura posed no threat to him. Yet that thought lasted only a moment.

"Grrrgh!"

Berheigen's eyes flew wide.

The wound left by the sword aura burned as though it were on fire. Sparks burst through his mind. He was accustomed to pain, and demonization should have numbed his body. Yet the pain assailing him now was unlike anything he had experienced in his entire life.

It felt as though his soul were burning away.

The demonic energy within him surged violently.

Pain disrupted Berheigen's stance just as he was about to counterattack. Najin would never let that opening slip past. His kick struck Berheigen's knee with a resounding crack. The instant that faltering stance collapsed entirely, Najin tightened his grip on his sword and brought it down toward the crown of Berheigen's head.

A strike like a guillotine. The brilliantly white sword aura traced a single line.

"You goddamn... little shit..."

But the sword did not split Berheigen's skull. He had hastily raised his arm to catch it on his forearm. The blade sank halfway through before the flesh bubbled back into place, pushing it out.

His face contorted with pain, Berheigen reached toward his back. At that instant, Najin's eyes widened and he leaped backward.

His instincts had warned him to put distance between them.

That decision proved correct.

As Najin pulled away, Berheigen seized the sword hilt protruding above his shoulder and drew. The blade burst out, splitting its scabbard and tracing a pitch-black arc.

SHWAAAAASH!

Trees caught in the sword aura split apart.

Wind howled around them. From a distance, Najin studied the sword in Berheigen's hand. Its blade was two or three times as thick as an ordinary longsword's—closer to a greatsword.

A sword that large, swung that fast.

His strength was formidable, and the pitch-black sword aura coiling around the greatsword was no less threatening. That murky, blackened aura was utterly sinister.

CRACK, CRACK-CRACK.

Berheigen loosened his shoulders.

He had not intended to draw his sword either, but taking Najin's attacks had changed his mind. He had concluded that the sword aura this greenhorn produced was abnormal.

Its sheer power was not threatening. The problem was the pain that came with each cut, as though his soul were burning away.

'It doesn't seem to be sword aura with a special property.'

Sword aura possessing a unique property and a form of its own was the hallmark of a Sword Seeker. To Berheigen's eyes, Najin did not appear to be at that level. Still, there was no doubt that the aura he produced was special in some way.

Nothing good would come of dragging out this fight.

That was Berheigen's judgment.

With a clang, Berheigen rested the greatsword against his shoulder armor and took his stance. His presence changed in an instant.

Berheigen, commander of House Schulhauser's knight order.

Even before contracting with a demon, he had stood among the very best Sword Experts. Now that the contract had dramatically enhanced his physical abilities, he possessed strength comparable to a swordsman who had just entered the realm of Sword Seeker.

That was why Berheigen was certain of his victory.

Was his opponent not merely a Sword Expert at best? He was quick, certainly, but that was all. Berheigen believed that one's level of attainment was absolute in combat.

... For the most part, he was right.

But a difference in attainment did not always decide victory or defeat. Sometimes, a subtle factor that those ranks could not measure introduced a variable that determined the outcome.

"Whew..."

And Najin—the boy who had lived in the underground city—had always created those variables with his own hands and seized victory.

This time would be no different. He exhaled at length, then opened his eyes wide.

Bloodshot eyes.

Reflected in them was a fleeting glimpse of the future.

2.

Najin had grown since coming to the City of Opportunity.

His growth had been steep and unhindered, but he was still a Sword Expert. Naturally, he was weaker than Berheigen, who approached Seeker level, and could not help but fall short in absolute strength.

Technique, physical strength, and many other factors.

He would probably be outmatched in most of them.

But if there was one area in which Najin did not fall short, it was his senses and eyesight. Senses honed to an impossibly keen edge. Unnerving eyes that caught everything.

Several months had passed since the boy, who had always been unrivaled at seeing, discovered his talent.

His eyes had already moved beyond the bounds of common sense... into something akin to a mystery. The world seen through them defied ordinary understanding. It was a landscape only Najin could comprehend.

The swaying grass.

Breathing. The movement of Berheigen's eyes.

His grip on the sword.

The pitch-black particles of rising sword aura.

And the surge of his muscles.

The moment Berheigen stepped forward, Najin had already kicked off the ground. By the time Berheigen swung his sword, Najin was already slipping into his flank.

CRACK!

As Berheigen's greatsword gouged a deep furrow in the ground, Najin slipped in and slashed across his skin. The wound was shallow, but Najin did not stop there. Reading Berheigen's movements with wide-open eyes, he drew a deep breath.

Mana swirled.

A mana training method that drew in the surrounding mana.

Normally, using Najin's mana training method in battle against a demon would have been tantamount to self-harm. Absorbing mana saturated with demonic energy would destroy his body.

But Najin was Excalibur's owner.

The moment mana entered his body, its demonic energy was completely purified. He poured all the mana he had absorbed, along with the mana already within him, into strengthening his body. An amount he could not have endured in the past.

But now, he could.

SH slash-SH slash-SH slash!

Acceleration. His sword scattered afterimages as it slashed Berheigen's body. Berheigen had exposed only a single opening, yet three strikes raked across him.

GRIND.

Clenching his teeth, Berheigen stamped the ground with a thud. Dust flew upward. He knew wounds that shallow could not threaten his life. Knowing that, he chose to take a lesser injury in exchange for inflicting a greater one.

The greatsword swung, cleaving the air.

Najin hastily tilted his head back, and the greatsword skimmed past above it. Swinging a blade that enormous should have left an opening, but Berheigen's movements offered none. Before the greatsword completed its arc, he twisted his waist.

The trajectory bent. The greatsword stopped unnaturally, then bore down on Najin.

Having read the motion in advance, Najin threw himself backward to evade it. But he could not fully escape the wind generated by the blade. Flying dust and shattered stone fragments engulfed him.

Blood spattered.

The troll hide protected his body, but not his face. Blood flew from torn skin. Dust obscured his vision, if only for an instant. Through it came Berheigen's greave. The iron-clad leg kicked toward Najin's abdomen.

CLAAAAANG!

He hastily drew his sword in to shield himself, but a crack rang out from the forearm bracing the flat of the blade. Strength beyond human limits. Najin grimaced.

Sliding backward, he steadied his breathing.

Reading a movement in advance and being able to block it were two different things. His forearm throbbed. He could barely muster any strength in one hand.

"You sure do flit around like a fucking pest."

GRIND, GRRRIND.

His face horribly twisted, Berheigen ground his teeth as though enduring the pain of the sword aura's cuts and cleared away the dust. Sweeping his greatsword once to restore his view, he looked at Najin and curled his lips upward.

"What the hell gave you the nerve to come at me? You must've seen plenty of dead knights on your way here. Seeing those fools dead with their heads smashed open... didn't that give you a clue?"

Grinning, Berheigen kicked off the ground.

With leg strength beyond human limits, he closed on Najin in an instant, swinging his greatsword with a sneer.

"That I'm not someone you can handle."

The greatsword was wreathed in pitch-black sword aura. Facing the descending blade, Najin raised his sword, expressionless.

"I know."

Sword aura collided with sword aura. The weight of the greatsword bent Najin's knees, yet his aura did not yield in the slightest. That fact unsettled Berheigen.

CLANG!

Najin parried Berheigen's blade. Forcing his body to hold firm as it creaked under the weight, he met Berheigen's strikes one after another.

CLANG, CLANG, CLAAAAANG!

Najin's body screamed beneath the crushing weight of the greatsword. Yet he faced Berheigen's blade head-on. Sometimes he borrowed the Church's swordsmanship; sometimes, the technique Ivan had shown him for deflecting a blade.

"I know, but..."

Najin raised his head.

The moment their eyes met, a chill ran through Berheigen. The boy's bloodshot eyes did not waver at all. They resembled the eyes of a wild beast.

Eyes gleaming eerily, as though he would sink his fangs into Berheigen's neck at the slightest lapse in vigilance.

Overwhelmed by those eyes, if only for an instant, Berheigen swung his sword savagely and drove Najin back. Then he stamped the ground with a heavy thud, tightening his grip on the hilt.

CRACK, CRACK-CRACK!

His stance seemed to compress his strength. Drawing the greatsword behind his back, Berheigen swung it horizontally with a shout. It was the technique that had all but defined him when he made his name as commander of House Schulhauser's knight order.

A sword technique that had bisected a troll with a single stroke.

The greatsword, cloaked in black sword aura, traced a half-moon arc. The moment that sweeping blade collided with Najin's sword, wind pressure surged outward. Trees on either side of Najin split with a resounding crack.

Unable to fully withstand the force himself, Najin slid backward. Driven back over ten paces, he stopped only when his back struck a tree.

'... He blocked it? That?'

Berheigen's eyes widened after the swing.

How had he blocked a strike that could split even a troll in one blow, especially when delivered with enhanced strength? Berheigen had no way of understanding the strange movement Najin had made against the swinging greatsword.

"... There was something I wanted to ask you."

Najin pulled away from the tree, panting.

His breathing was ragged. One arm appeared to have broken completely while blocking that last blow. With his right arm hanging limp, he raised his sword in one hand.

Pointing its tip at Berheigen, Najin spoke.

"What does being a knight mean to you?"

Perhaps it was a question he was asking himself as well.

3.

What was a knight?

At that question, Berheigen let out a disbelieving laugh. Was he trying to buy time? Berheigen saw no value in answering. With a heavy thud, he took another step toward Najin.

"What do honor and pride mean to you?"

Najin asked as he took his stance.

The greatsword tore into the ground with a boom.

As though refusing to indulge any attempt to stall, Berheigen relentlessly pressed him. Forced backward, Najin sank into a low stance.

"Answer me."

An instant of acceleration.

Moving faster than Berheigen, Najin slashed the wrist of the hand swinging the greatsword. The blade did not sever it outright, but carved a wound a finger joint deep.

SLASH!

Blood sprayed, and Berheigen grimaced. His flesh quickly grew back, but he could not swing the greatsword properly like this. He kicked Najin away.

Najin did not immediately rush back in.

He was simply asking his questions.

What did being a knight, honor, and pride mean to him? He needed to hear the answer. Berheigen gave a hollow laugh and exhaled at length. He opened his mouth as though willing to indulge this meaningless exchange until the flesh on his wrist grew back.

"You asked what a knight is?"

Berheigen answered.

"Knighthood is a means of getting ahead. Nothing more than a means of acquiring money, authority, and strength."

That was what knighthood meant to him.

It was how he, a commoner, had raised his station. His knighthood had allowed him to obtain wealth and authority that a commoner could never possess.

"Honor and pride are no different."

Berheigen chuckled.

"You gain nothing by upholding them, but they're worth an incredible amount when you sell them off or throw them away. You have no idea how much that worthless thing called a knight's pride can sell for, boy."

When he betrayed his lord. When he sold his lord's weaknesses to nobles from other territories. Or when he turned a blind eye to the disloyalty of the house's retainers. Each time, they would hand him hundreds of gold coins as compensation for compromising his knightly pride.

He gained nothing by preserving it.

But violating it earned him sweet, sweet gold.

"Pride, honor, the code... You saw on your way here, didn't you? What happened to those fools obsessed with such worthless things. Look at me. Didn't throwing all of it away let me gain this tremendous power?"

Using knightly honor as a pretext, he had slipped deep into the house's inner confines and stolen an artifact containing a sealed demon. Using knightly pride as a pretext, he had lured out his comrades and murdered them.

Fools who clung desperately to honor and pride.

Berheigen knew nothing was easier or more enjoyable than toying with such men. A smile spread across his lips. The young man before him was no knight, but he possessed the same foolishness.

"You're no different yourself."

When he had slashed Berheigen's wrist, he might have inflicted at least some more damage if he had kept attacking. Instead, he was giving Berheigen time merely to hear an answer about honor and pride.

"Utter fools, every last one of you."

Berheigen truly believed that.

Najin, who had been listening closely, lowered his head. Was he angry? Or was he despairing at being outmatched by someone who knew neither honor nor pride?

Neither.

When Najin raised his head, he was smiling.

"... Why are you smiling?"

"I was just thinking again how lucky I was."

Still smiling, Najin continued.

"I'm glad the first knight I ever met wasn't someone like you."

A knight who understood honor and pride.

A knight of Atanga who had not lost his pride even after falling to rock bottom, who had chosen to remain a knight until the very end.

The first knight he had ever met.

The knight who had planted a dream within him.

Najin was glad that knight had been Ivan. He thought himself fortunate. Listening to the demon knight Berheigen, who weighed honor and pride against mere gold coins, Najin finally understood.

He understood the kind of knight he wanted to become.

What came to Najin's mind... was the first knight, the first star, he had ever encountered. He recalled a certain knight who had held stars in his eyes in the underground city, where no starlight reached.

'No matter where he has fallen.'

Even after an endless fall.

Even after falling somewhere the stars could not reach.

'Hoping to reclaim what he has lost, protecting the pride he still possesses...'

Never forgetting that he is a knight.

'A knight who chases the stars.'

A knight who chases the stars in the night sky.

That was the knight Najin wanted to become.

'A knight who chases the stars, carrying honor and pride.'

Honor. Pride. And stars.

The image of a knight that had remained incomplete in Najin's mind was, paradoxically, completed only after he faced the person furthest from that ideal. A goal took shape. The picture was complete.

It was at that moment that Najin's sword aura surged brilliantly white.

The sword aura's output rose in an instant. This was a method of wielding it that he had unconsciously learned during his decisive battle with Ivan, but had never used since. Yet unlike then...

There were no platinum particles in the fiercely surging sword aura.

For what Najin envisioned at this moment was not a star, but a certain knight.