The Demon Knight, Berheigen.

Several days had passed since Najin cut him down. Those days had kept Najin so busy he barely had a moment to breathe—a turn of events even he had not anticipated.

'I thought completing the commission would be the end of it.'

He would collect his reward at the Central Guild as usual, fill his stomach with something delicious, and get back to training. With the insights he had gained from fighting Berheigen, he would surely make progress... Najin had headed to the Central Guild with such carefree thoughts, only to find countless eyes greeting him, along with knights in the service of nobles waiting there.

What Najin had overlooked was that this commission involved the nobility. Of course, the only commission he had accepted was the one issued by a knight of Atanga... but regardless, he was the one who had slain the Demon Knight.

"So you are the man."

"I am a knight of House Azbeli. Viscount Triam wishes to express his gratitude..."

The bounties the nobles had placed on the Demon Knight would go to Najin. Naturally, collecting them drew the attention of numerous nobles and adventurers.

He was summoned here and there, made arrangements to meet nobles at a later date, received invitations to balls, and so on.

After days of being called away on irritating, troublesome business that demanded proper formalities, Najin felt utterly drained. Only today, with the commotion finally settled, could he enjoy a leisurely morning.

"Haaah..."

There was a bench outside his lodgings. Leaning back against it, Najin gazed up at the blue sky and let out a long breath in the increasingly chilly weather.

-Your first relaxing morning in a while, isn't it?

'It certainly is. I had no idea it would be so much trouble.'

-Well, isn't it still better than you expected?

Merlin grinned.

-Argo, that knight of Atanga, understood what you wanted. That kept things from getting even more troublesome, didn't it?

Najin smiled wryly. Merlin was right. He had subtly conveyed to Argo that he wanted to keep his achievements quiet and conceal his strength a little longer. A man who seemed to have reached such a high level must have had a rough grasp of his abilities...

But Argo had turned a blind eye to the fact that Najin was concealing his strength, as though it were none of his business.

He had simply announced the incident along the lines of Najin's earlier account: Berheigen had been weakened by wounds inflicted by the knights pursuing him, and the adventurer Ivan had finished him off...

'That's why it ended with only this much fuss.'

Murmuring that to himself, Najin took a letter from inside his clothes. The other nobles' names meant little to him, but this letter was different.

House Trevache.

A letter from Marquis Edelmar.

It was the house to which Gilbert belonged—the dying knight Najin had encountered while pursuing the Demon Knight Berheigen. When a knight from that house had visited several days earlier, Najin had passed on Gilbert's final words and told him this:

Sir Gilbert had striven to remain a knight to the very end, and it was thanks to his help that Najin had been able to hunt down Berheigen.

The knight of House Trevache had thanked Najin and promised to relay his words to his lord along with Gilbert's final message. A few days later, this letter had arrived.

"Hmm..."

The stationery was exceptionally fine. When Najin unfolded the letter bearing House Trevache's crest, he found a personal message from Marquis Edelmar. It was lengthy, but its essence was simple.

I am in your debt. You have my gratitude for delivering my knight's final words. Whenever you visit House Trevache, I shall welcome you as an honored guest.

Marquis Edelmar had not used his authority to force Najin to attend. He had merely sent an invitation asking him to visit sometime, whenever that might be. With a faint smile, Najin carefully tucked the letter away.

He could not be certain without meeting the man, but he felt that this was indeed a lord worthy of his knight.

'I'll have to visit this house.'

With that murmur, Najin rose from the bench. A leisurely morning was pleasant enough, but he was beginning to itch for action. All the demands on his time over the past few days had kept him from training properly.

CRACK. CRACK-CRACK.

Najin vigorously loosened up his body and took a deep breath. He intended to begin his training with a little mana practice. When Merlin first taught him this method, it had made him scream. Not anymore.

The unruly mana raging inside his body now almost tickled.

-Well, after experiencing the pain of having all your mana channels twisted out of shape, I suppose this much would be nothing.

Merlin murmured in disbelief.

The mana control method Najin had used against the Demon Knight drew in mana beyond his limits, bringing with it the agony of twisting mana channels and a body torn apart from within.

Najin had endured that pain fully conscious and continued fighting through it. Even Merlin could only marvel at his formidable willpower.

-So, have you gotten a feel for something?

There was something unusual about Najin's presence as he worked his mana. Merlin noticed it, and he smiled at her question.

'Until now, I didn't understand what it meant to imbue sword aura with a mental image, or to reach the level of a Sword Seeker...'

Then he spoke aloud.

"But I think I'm starting to understand."

Najin drew his sword and infused it with mana. He pictured a knight's sword, and pure-white sword aura wrapped around his blade, entirely devoid of platinum particles. It was complete sword aura, not a mere fragment.

Previously, producing complete sword aura had revealed its platinum color, forcing Najin to restrict how much he used.

But no longer. He could now wield his platinum and pure-white sword auras separately. That meant he was free to pour out sword aura to his heart's content. Pleased by that realization, Najin waved it this way and that.

He produced platinum sword aura by picturing a star, and pure-white sword aura by picturing a knight.

'Is this what it feels like to imbue sword aura with a mental image?'

It felt as though, if he went just a little further, he could change the shape of his sword aura as well. Watching him, Merlin let out a sigh she had long since lost count of.

-At this point, I can't even be surprised anymore...

Using different kinds of sword aura separately. Changing its color according to a mental image.

Needless to say, these were not feats a Sword Expert could perform. Only a Sword Seeker could even attempt them, and they were difficult even for those at that level.

Wielding distinct kinds of sword aura was no simple matter. Projecting even one mental image was difficult, and forming that image alone required tremendous effort. Handling two such images—and keeping them separate, at that—could hardly be easy.

Yet Najin made difficult things look effortless. Watching him inevitably drew a disbelieving laugh from Merlin. With just such a laugh, she watched the pure-white sword aura he was swinging about.

WHOOSH, WHOOOSH...

As Najin trained, swinging his sword through the air, someone vaulted over the wall and landed in the training yard in front of his lodgings.

"Who...?"

Najin turned to see who had stepped into the training yard, then tilted his head. The visitor was entirely unexpected.

"Lady Roselin?"

"Y-yeah. Hey, kid. It's been a while..."

The commander of the Red Eye Mercenary Company. Roselin Ascalo, who stood at the pinnacle of the city.

She answered in a trembling voice. And her voice was not the only thing trembling. Her eyes were darting wildly, as though she were terrified.

TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP.

She hurried over and seized both of Najin's shoulders in a powerful grip. Even he could not help being flustered by this.

"Wh-what is it?"

"There's a visitor here for you. For you. We need to go, quickly. He's sitting in my company's headquarters right now..."

Her eyes darted. Her voice shook. Still gripping Najin's shoulders tightly, Roselin poured out her words as though begging him to save her.

"Our guest is asking for you... Hurry, please, come with me..."

Her tone was almost pleading. Najin nodded for the moment. Only then did Roselin exhale a long breath, as though she could finally breathe again.

Roselin seized Najin's hand and dragged him out of the lodgings. As she pulled him along, he could only tilt his head in puzzlement. Who was this woman before him? Red-Eyed Roselin Ascalo, said to stand at the pinnacle of this city.

She was an accomplished Sword Seeker, held an honorary noble title, and led the armed force known as the Red Eye Mercenary Company.

Who could terrify Roselin like this when even nobles dared not meddle with her? And why would someone like that be looking for him? Unable to contain his curiosity, Najin finally spoke.

"Um, just who is this visitor?"

"..."

Roselin did not stop walking. She whipped her head around to meet Najin's gaze and spoke with a face on the verge of tears.

"... Sir Karon."

"Pardon? What did you say?"

"Sir Karon, the Sword Master...!"

Karon, the Sword Saint of the Order of the Sword.

A Sword Master with six stars.

Roselin was telling him that the man who had reached the pinnacle of the sword was looking for him.

2.

Several hours before this incident.

Upon hearing that monsters had occupied a trade route frequently used by the Garchea Trading Company, Roselin immediately mobilized her mercenary company and headed there. Since Garchea sponsored them, this was the least they could do.

When she arrived, she found a road buried under rubble as though a landslide had struck it... and monsters occupying the area around the blocked passage.

"Tsk, clearing that road is going to take a while..."

Dealing with the monsters would be easy enough, but restoring the ruined road would take some time. Having made a rough estimate, she looked back.

The Garchea Trading Company's merchants stood there sighing beside wagons parked in front of the obstruction. They appeared to be returning from a trading trip. Roselin started toward the wagons to give them a brief explanation of the situation.

"... Hmm?"

Then she noticed someone unusually dressed. Two men in priestly robes stood among the merchants. Judging by their attire, they appeared to be priests of the Order of the Sword.

"Who are those gentlemen?"

"We're on our way back from selling daily necessities to the Order of the Sword. These two priests said they had business in Cambria, so they came along."

That was the merchants' reply. Roselin acknowledged it and was about to pass them when she felt a chilling gaze, one that seemed to pierce straight through her. She turned sharply.

The two priests of the Sword stood there: one middle-aged man, and another of indeterminate age with his hood pulled low over his face.

The gaze came from the hooded priest. He was looking at Echo, the Masterpiece strapped across Roselin's lower back. She did not much care for that stare, so she spoke sharply.

"... You seem rather interested in Masterpieces."

The hooded man gave a short "Ah."

"My apologies. Its unusual shape caught my interest."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Are you the mercenary hired by the trading company? I hear the road is blocked and the wagons cannot proceed."

"That's right, more or less. It'll take a while, so you priests can relax and rest—"

"A while, you say. How long?"

"... Pardon?"

Roselin narrowed her eyes. She did not particularly like the priest's attitude, but decided to answer him anyway.

"About half a day, I would say."

"That is troublesome. Hmm, that won't do."

The priest smiled wryly.

"I'm rather pressed for time. Excuse me."

He walked past Roselin. Just as she was about to ask what he meant, the priest drew the sword at his waist with a metallic ring. His draw was utterly smooth and flawless.

He really was a priest of the Order of the Sword, then. His form was quite well—?

That was as far as Roselin's thoughts went.

Her eyes flew wide. A presence she had not sensed a moment before bore down on the entire area the instant the priest drew his sword. Every mercenary stopped walking. The chattering merchants fell silent.

It was a strange sensation, as though time and space themselves had been seized.

Within it, the priest alone moved. He passed through the motionless mercenaries and took his place at the front, facing the rubble-choked road and the monsters standing atop the debris. Though he was well within their reach, the monsters could not so much as blink.

They had not been permitted to blink, to breathe, or to move.

Amid those frozen figures, the priest swung his sword. The swing and the act of sheathing it were indistinguishable. By the time one thought he had swung, his sword was already back in its scabbard. Immediately afterward, the presence and pressure weighing down the area vanished in an instant.

SHING.

A quiet slicing sound reached their ears. Just one.

There was no sound of monsters being split apart, no rumble of shaking earth, no crash of shattered mounds of dirt... Nothing else could be heard.

After that single slicing sound, only the result remained.

The heaps of earth and rubble blocking the road, and the monsters occupying them, had all vanished without a trace. It was as though he had worked magic. The merchants stared wide-eyed in shock, while the mercenaries released the breaths they had been holding and gaped.

None of them understood what had just happened. They knew only the result: the priest had swung his sword once, and the rubble and monsters blocking the road had disappeared without a trace.

"Uh, uh, uhhh..."

Only Roselin—only Roselin, who had reached the level of a Sword Seeker—understood even a fragment of what had happened.

The moment the priest swung his sword, Roselin had seen a flash of light lasting the briefest instant.

Rather than sword aura, it resembled an enormous mass of light. Its output was absurd, far beyond what a human body could possibly withstand. The instant the sword swung, that aura fell like a guillotine upon everything blocking its path.

That was all it took.

Everything the sword aura touched vanished without a trace. Only the exceedingly fine particles drifting through the air remained as proof that monsters and heaps of dirt had ever been there.

'I couldn't even see it properly.'

Even with her keen eyes, Roselin had perceived only a fleeting flash sweeping past. That realization sent a chill through her. Belatedly, she looked at the hooded priest.

He was looking at her as well.

The face visible beneath his hood was one Roselin Ascalo knew. Her complexion rapidly drained of color. She had realized who stood before her.

The Sword Saint of the Order of the Sword.

The man who had reached the pinnacle of the sword.

Sword Master, Karon.