Do not move.

The Sword Saint’s voice rang in his ears, and Najin’s body froze rigid before he could understand what those words meant. He could neither breathe nor move a finger.

The master of this domain had not permitted it.

It felt much like being restrained by Merlin. He could probably move if he gritted his teeth and twisted his body, but Najin did not. He merely opened his eyes wide, determined to witness what was about to happen with his own two eyes.

Najin’s eyes grew bloodshot. Blood pooled at their corners and trickled down.

SHHHHH...

Rain was falling over the field. Each drop splashed up as it struck the ground. Within time stretched long, Najin watched the Sword Saint. The man who had reached the pinnacle of the sword was swinging his blade.

No matter how hard he strained his eyes, even within that drawn-out span of time, Najin could not clearly see the Sword Saint’s swing. The tip that had pointed toward the sky was suddenly pointing at the ground.

The instant Najin registered that fact—

PATTER, PATTER-PATTER.

The falling raindrops split apart. They struck something and scattered. Something was approaching through the rain. Droplets leaped. Sheets of rain parted. It came toward him, sweeping aside the downpour that blurred his vision.

... Though dozens of meters lay between the Sword Saint and Najin, physical distance meant nothing.

This was the Sword Saint’s domain. When he swung his sword, it was only natural that things would be cut. And so the mass of light that burst from his blade’s tip hurtled unimpeded toward Najin.

An ordinary person would have perceived it as a single flash. But Najin’s eyes could see it: a colossal beam of light descending in a straight line like a guillotine.

SHICK.

The sound of cutting came a beat later.

As that belated sound rang out, it stopped right before Najin’s nose. It was an enormous blade. Only then did he realize that the towering mass of light, seemingly tall enough to touch the sky, was the Sword Saint’s sword aura.

The Sword Saint’s sword aura was reflected in Najin’s sunset-colored eyes. He had witnessed a strike unleashed by one who stood at the pinnacle. Merely looking at it made his head throb.

WHOOOOSH!

An instant later, the sword aura dispersed.

It dispersed, but the wind it had drawn along struck Najin a moment afterward. His hair streamed in the swirling wind. His clothes flapped.

PATTER-PATTER-PATTER!

The raindrops split by the sword aura were driven against Najin’s body by the wind. As they battered his face, he released the breath he had been holding. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers firmly against his eyelids.

It had lasted only an instant.

Yet brief as that instant had been, the Sword Saint’s strike was etched into Najin’s mind as a single stroke. Even with his eyes closed, he could picture it with utter clarity. The sword the Sword Saint had swung took root in his mind as a dividing line.

A line separating ordinary humans from those beyond humanity.

An immense wall dividing the world into Sword Masters and everyone else. The strike the Sword Saint had shown him was nothing less than such a dividing line.

"..."

Najin touched the back of his neck. That chilling sensation he had felt when the Sword Saint drew his sword—as though a blade were pressed against his neck.

'It wasn’t my imagination.'

Najin realized that it had not been his imagination. This entire area was the Sword Saint’s domain.

The realization drew a hollow laugh from him.

Slowly opening his eyes, Najin looked down at his feet. A deep, straight furrow cut through the ground. That single stroke ran all the way to the Sword Saint standing in the distance. A single sword strike had shot forth in an instant, cleaving earth and rain alike.

He had seen it, yet could not understand it.

Because he could not understand it, it felt alien.

And because it felt alien, it was an immense wall.

... Most people confronted with such a wall would despair before it, or feel fear and futility in the face of a realm they might never reach even after devoting their entire lives to it. But that applied only to ordinary swordsmen.

Najin was an oddity.

An oddity among oddities who had taunted a Constellation, drawn Excalibur, and gambled with his life time and again.

"Ha..."

That was why Najin smiled the moment he faced the wall.

Najin felt his hands trembling. It was not a tremor born of fear. What he felt now was awe and exhilaration. He had come face-to-face with the pinnacle he must someday reach...

'No. That’s not right.'

Najin tightened his grip hard around his sword.

This was not a place he must someday reach. It was a realm he must trample underfoot and surpass. His goal, after all, was the highest point in the heavens.

Reflecting on his goal, Najin raised his head and met the Sword Saint’s gaze. The moment their eyes met, the Sword Saint burst out laughing.

Najin’s eyes had not wavered in the slightest.

2.

"As promised, I will teach you the sword."

The Sword Saint spoke after the spar was over.

"I have many duties of my own, so I cannot visit very often. But I will try to make time at least once a month. You are worth that much."

Once a month.

It was a familiar offer to Najin; only the person overseeing his swordsmanship had changed, from a Mid-Ranking Priest to the master of the Order. Volkman had made the same offer before.

"It goes without saying, but I intend to keep this from the public. I doubt you would want it known either... and I have rather a lot of enemies."

The Sword Saint smiled wryly.

"If word gets out that I have taken a pupil, the Order of Starblood’s executioner will undoubtedly ask around and come looking for you. Without fail. That is the sort of woman she is."

"The Order of Starblood’s executioner..."

"Yuel Razian. A Sword Master with six stars, just like me."

A murderous fiend. That was what people called that Sword Master.

Najin knew something about Yuel Razian as well. Backgrounds and brief accounts of the Sword Masters were easy enough to find.

'If I remember right, she reached Sword Master by killing so many people...'

A Sword Master unlike the others.

He had once read that the Order of Starblood’s executioner inspired contempt and fear among swordsmen, rather than respect.

"She wants to cut me down. If she hears I have a pupil, she will certainly take an interest. Even without her, the eyes of the whole world would turn toward you..."

The Sword Saint grinned.

"Would you like that? If you do, I won’t stop you."

"I must decline."

Najin refused politely. The Sword Saint nodded as though he had expected as much.

"As Volkman said, you seem to have no intention of joining the Order of the Sword. Well, I wouldn’t particularly recommend it myself."

"Aren’t you the master of the Order of the Sword?"

"The Order of the Sword is a good place. But it is not a good place to gain a wide range of experience."

Karon spoke decisively.

"A wide range of experience seems to be what you need, so the Order would not suit your disposition. I have no intention of forcing you. Rather, I would recommend becoming a wandering swordsman."

Arms folded, Karon looked out over the rain-soaked field. His gaze seemed to reach beyond it.

"Wander the world with nothing but a sword in your hand. See much, experience much, and meet countless people. It is through that process that one’s sword becomes complete. That was true of me, and of the first Sword Saint as well."

Bound to nothing, following wherever his feet led him. Najin nodded at Karon’s words. The path he wanted to walk was much the same.

Listening closely to Karon, Najin parted his lips for a moment.

"Sword Saint."

There was one thing he wanted to know.

Najin looked straight at Karon. The man he saw was different from Volkman. He seemed to regard nurturing talented swordsmen not as his goal, but merely as a means to achieve it.

"Why do you want to teach me the sword?"

And so Najin asked. What did he hope to gain by teaching him? The Sword Saint smiled wryly at the question.

"Teaching the sword to those with talent is a virtue befitting the master of the Order of the Sword... I wish I could give you that answer, but that is not all there is to it."

Karon answered briefly.

"It is to fulfill the Order of the Sword’s cherished wish. For now, that is all I can say. I cannot give you the details, so please understand."

The Order’s cherished wish?

Najin was puzzling over Karon’s words, though he nodded for the moment, when—

-Oh...

Najin heard Merlin exhale in his ear, sounding a little surprised. After letting out that breath, she continued.

-That’s a little unexpected. I didn’t think anyone would still remember that after all this time...

'Do you know what the Order’s cherished wish is?'

-How could I not? It has to do with Arthur.

Merlin’s voice sank. Unlike her usual self, she spoke without the slightest trace of playfulness or laughter.

-Freeing the first Sword Saint. That’s the Order of the Sword’s cherished wish.

'Wasn’t the first Sword Saint a hero from King Arthur’s time? Wouldn’t they already be dead, or have become a Constellation—'

-Not dead. More precisely, unable to die.

Her voice was heavy with conflicting emotions. Merlin spoke with a sigh.

-That one became a wraith of Camlann.

3.

Inside the carriage returning to the Order of the Sword, Mid-Ranking Priest Volkman glanced at his close friend seated opposite him. Sword Saint Karon was tending his sword, wearing a more satisfied smile than ever.

"So that young man met your standards too?"

"Not just mine, surely."

The Sword Saint shrugged at Volkman’s question.

"Bring any Sword Master before him, and they would react as I did. That is the caliber of his potential."

The potential Karon spoke of.

Volkman knew well that he did not mean talent alone. Had Karon not refused to teach countless geniuses, saying they failed to meet his standards?

"He wasn’t afraid, even after seeing my sword. Didn’t falter, either. Did you see the look he gave me at the end? Good grief. The sheer absurdity..."

Despite his muttering, Karon was smiling.

"He saw me not as a place to reach someday, but as something to surpass. Can you imagine? A warrior who is still only a Sword Expert saw a Sword Master’s sword and thought that."

Some gazes burn with intensity. Look into them, and you can see what lies within.

And, impudent as he was, that young man had shown a desire to challenge the sword Karon displayed. He saw Karon as someone to overtake, not someone to admire or stand in awe of. What an utterly outrageous fellow.

'But precisely because of that...'

He liked him.

He was exactly the sort of person Karon had hoped for. Karon had no interest in dull fellows who admired him and made him their goal.

Someone who would surpass him. Someone who would climb higher than him.

That was the person Karon had been searching for.

"I intend to teach him nothing but the sword. I want your cooperation in that."

"... What do you mean?"

"I mean I will never interfere in his life."

He would merely teach him the sword.

He had no intention of interfering in the young man’s life. He would not act as his powerful backer, nor did he have any intention of rescuing him from the crises that came his way. That would defeat the purpose.

He would overcome crisis after crisis through his own strength. Surmount trials. Break out of desperate situations. Survive battles with his life on the line, and grow.

Karon had not the slightest intention of intervening in that process. Liking him did not mean he would protect him. All he would teach was swordsmanship; the young man would have to fill in everything else through his own strength.

If he died along the way, that would simply mean his potential had amounted to no more than that.

... Every Sword Master was warped in some way. Though Sword Saint Karon was considered the closest to normal among the three Sword Masters, he too was lacking in some part of his humanity.

"..."

As he polished and honed his sword, Karon recalled his purpose.

The Order of the Sword’s cherished wish.

It sounded grand at first, but reduced to a single sentence, it was simplicity itself.

'Kill the first Sword Saint.'

That was the Order’s cherished wish.

Put more gently, it might be called giving the first Sword Saint peace, but was that not the same thing? Reflecting on the Order’s purpose, Karon pictured the land of the abyss.

Even with six stars, even after reaching the realm of Sword Master, the abyssal land of Camlann remained far, far beyond his reach. He could picture it clearly even with his eyes closed.

'Camlann, land of the abyss.'

Within that space, isolated by Arthur in the distant past, cursed things lived and breathed. They wandered in death, waiting only for the day the seal would break. The dragon that devoured stars, the Witch of Fallen Things, the traitor of the Round Table, fallen stars...

And the Sword Wraith of the Abyss.

Whenever Camlann’s barrier wavered, a lone swordsman could be dimly seen beyond its boundary. Dragging his sword along the ground, he slaughtered everything that approached, making no distinction between friend and foe. Because he looked like a ghost bearing a sword, he was called the Sword Wraith.

But no one knew the identity of the Sword Wraith of the Abyss. He was known only as a swordsman driven mad while wandering that cursed land.

Only a very few Constellations and the successive Sword Saints of the Order of the Sword knew his true identity. Recalling the Sword Wraith he had encountered at Camlann’s boundary, Karon looked at the sword he was tending.

... The Sword Wraith of the Abyss was the first Sword Saint.

One worn away by centuries. A Sword Saint left alone in Camlann, cut off from the world, who had spent hundreds of years cutting down cursed things. A hero of the past, wandering in death with all reason lost.

Freeing that once-noble being was the Order’s cherished wish—and the reason Karon had first begun wielding a sword.

With a long sigh, Karon slid his sword into its scabbard. Could the young man he had met today become the one to fulfill his cherished wish? That remained to be seen. Karon could only hope that the day would come when he could tell the young man the truth.

* * *

-The first Sword Saint, now the Sword Wraith of the Abyss.

-An enemy you must someday cut down. To be a little more precise...

Merlin told Najin,

-A being only you can cut down.

Her words were tinged with conflicted sorrow.

-Because cutting that one down requires Excalibur.