The ducal House Arbenia.

A knight stood before its lord, Osman Arbenia, and spoke with his head bowed.

“As you commanded, we escorted Lady Dieta to the villa. I have sent trustworthy knights to guard it, so you need not worry.”

“Is that so?” Osman said, resting his chin on his hand. “Have the knights and servants received their instructions?”

“That, too, has been done as you commanded.”

“Well done, Sir Griffin.”

“May I ask one question?”

The knight, Griffin, raised his bowed head. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties, but Osman knew the man was older than he was. Griffin had been at his side since Osman was a child.

The commander of House Arbenia’s knights. Sword Seeker Griffin.

He posed a question to his lord.

“I would like to know your intent in issuing such orders.”

It was a question that might be considered impertinent. Had an ordinary knight asked it, Osman would have laughed it off or declined to answer... But Griffin was his most trusted knight, a man who was practically an old friend after their many years together. So Osman answered willingly.

“Because she is dangerous, of course.” Osman smiled. “Griffin. Do you remember when I was young?”

“I do.”

Osman had been the family’s third son, a contender pushed aside in the struggle for succession, someone no one paid any attention to. Yet the man who ultimately became the lord of the ducal house was Osman Arbenia.

Eliminate whatever stood in his way. Drag down those who climbed high, then break and ruin them so they could never rise again.

By the end of the fierce succession struggle, Osman alone remained standing on his own two feet. The others had been reduced to wrecks, lost their will, or fled somewhere far away.

Griffin had witnessed that process from closer than anyone. Turning those memories over in his mind, he nodded.

“Then you mean...”

“Dieta has the makings of a wielder of power. She is as talented as I am, perhaps more so. I do not deny that.” Osman spoke with his chin still resting on his hand. “Agesio and the other children are not without talent, but they fall woefully short of Dieta. It is unfortunate that the child who inherited my blood most strongly should be her, of all people.”

Osman Arbenia gazed at his eyes reflected in his teacup. Vivid yellow eyes. Those eyes, which appraised worth, were what he prized most about himself.

“She was right. Her value is too great to sell off for a quick, one-season profit. Give her another five years? Her company will grow larger still. It will reach a scale that even this ducal house cannot easily touch. Of that I have no doubt.”

“Then...”

“That is precisely why, Sir Griffin.”

Osman narrowed his eyes. Their vivid yellow gleamed like a snake’s.

“Her value may be great...” He gave the teacup a light tap. “But it is not something I can swallow. The larger she grows, the more she will become a snake that swallows me.”

She resembled him more than anyone else.

Her eyes were like his—the eyes of a man who had eliminated every rival and seized the lordship of the ducal house. One day, she would surely sink her venomous fangs into his neck and swallow the house whole.

That was certainty, and it was trust. Just as Dieta considered Osman one of her own kind, Osman regarded Dieta as a being like himself.

“So should I not swallow her while I still can?”

“I have no taste for raising a beast that will one day tear out my throat,” Osman added, laughing aloud.

To raise a predator, one had to pull out its claws and teeth, then beat it whenever it tried to climb above its station, impressing upon it who stood higher. And Osman knew that method very well.

Petals not yet fully formed. Predators not yet fully grown.

Osman Arbenia had attained his position by trampling and ruining such people time and again.

“Trample her thoroughly. Break her so that she can never rise again. After all, you know it as well as I do, do you not?” Osman murmured indifferently. “People break more easily than one might think.”

All the more so for a girl her age.

2.

“Lady Dieta has fallen into a trap,” Pasion said, kneeling in the muck.

Najin listened quietly. Pasion told him about the internal affairs of the ducal House Arbenia and Dieta’s present circumstances. At the end of his explanation, he reached a conclusion.

“Swallowing the trading company was never the goal. The company is merely a bonus. Duke Osman’s true purpose is to crush Lady Dieta.”

Pasion could be certain because he had overheard the duke’s orders. The duke was not underestimating Dieta. Quite the opposite.

He considered her a threat, and thus intended to trample and destroy her.

That meant Dieta, now confined to the villa, was in danger. She would be pursuing a longer-term goal and waiting for an opportunity, but if the duke’s plans proceeded, that opportunity would never come.

“She must be warned, and she needs someone who can act on her behalf.”

Dieta was isolated. What she needed now was someone who could come and go from the villa, serving as her carrier pigeon. But Pasion, who should have filled that role, was under surveillance, and finding someone skilled enough to trust with such a task was no easy matter.

It had to be someone who would stand on Dieta’s side, and who possessed skills at least equal to a Sword Expert’s.

There were plenty of people who met the second condition, if one looked. Finding someone who met the first was difficult—especially in this city full of adventurers chasing gold. No one would take on a task like this at the risk of drawing a ducal house’s ire.

“I know I am asking too much.”

An unreasonable request, and a dangerous commission. There was little to gain by completing it, while the risks were far too great. Pasion did not conceal that fact. Kneeling here to beg, he knew he owed the man before him truthful information.

“Evading the knights’ watch and sneaking into the villa to establish contact will be difficult. Of course, I will provide a map of the villa and the locations of its hidden passages, but what you stand to gain from this commission...”

That was where his explanation faltered. Adventurers weighed profits against risks. Pasion knew they would never accept such a commission. He bowed his head a little farther.

“... I can guarantee nothing for now.”

If things went well and Dieta returned to her company, there would be much he could guarantee. But Pasion had no way of knowing how matters would unfold. He was even considering the possibility of fleeing with Dieta, should the worst happen.

He clenched his teeth with a grinding sound.

He could offer no tangible profit to place on the scales. There was only one thing he could offer now.

“There is only one payment I can guarantee.” Pasion unfastened the sword at his waist and laid it down. “My personal honor, and everything I have.”

The collateral was his life.

“Whether this succeeds or fails, if the ducal house corners you, I will take all the blame—”

“So.”

Najin cut him off. His honor and everything he had. Once Najin had heard that much, there was no need to hear the rest. Meeting Pasion’s gaze as the knight slowly raised his head, he continued.

“Where is it? This villa.”

“... What?”

“I’m asking where the villa is.”

Najin held out his hand to Pasion, inviting him to take it and stand. Pasion stared at the offered hand, looking bewildered, then grasped it and rose.

“... You mean to accept the commission?”

“Let’s call it agreeing to a request, not accepting a commission.”

The knight’s sword lay in the muck. Najin picked it up.

“A knight has given me his oath and asked for my help. That is enough. As for the rest... we’ll manage somehow.”

“It is hardly my place to say this when I am the one asking, but this commission could put you at odds with the ducal house—”

“Then I simply have to avoid getting caught, don’t I? Infiltration is one of my specialties.”

Murmuring those words, Najin let out a small chuckle. He had thought of his master, who had been prepared to make an enemy of the entire world just to keep a single oath.

“Besides...” Najin brushed the mud from Pasion’s sword and handed it back to him. “I have a promise to keep, too.”

A debt to repay. Najin had promised Dieta he would repay that debt. He still remembered that promise.

* * *

-So you’re going to do it?

“That’s my intention.”

The infiltration route, the villa’s layout, and its location. Having received all that information, Najin was organizing it in his mind. He needed to make at least some sort of plan before setting out.

-Sneaking into a ducal estate. You know that’s madness, right?

“He said it was the villa, not the ducal manor.”

-A villa, a separate wing, the ducal stables... Whatever it is, this could make an enemy of the ducal house. You do know that, don’t you?

“I do.”

Najin did not know how illustrious the ducal house’s reputation was. But he did know how far they could go with a justification to hide behind. If they set their minds to it, beheading some stray adventurer would be nothing to them.

The gulf between an adventurer and a ducal house was no different from the gulf between the residents of the underground city and the ordinary people living above it.

-And you still intend to do it?

“Yes.”

-Why?

“I told you. Because I made a promise.”

Merlin’s reaction suggested she did not quite understand. Najin let out a long breath.

“You know, don’t you, Merlin? I’m not obsessed with justice, and I’m not the sort to risk my life to right a wrong.”

Najin had lived in the underground city. He had killed countless people to survive and had not hesitated to do evil when necessary. Drawing Excalibur and leaving the underground city did not erase any of that.

He had no intention of dressing himself up as something he was not. He had no desire to proclaim justice while behaving hypocritically, nor to preach his values to others.

Whether others committed evil was none of his business. He had no intention of setting them right. Unless they had harmed him, what right did he have to punish them or force justice upon them?

He himself was hardly an innocent man.

But. But even so.

“But I found there’s one thing I can’t tolerate.”

Najin ran his hand over his sword.

“Knights.”

Those who upheld honor and pride. And the star he had seen in the underground city.

“I can’t stand seeing people who bear the title of knight act that way. I don’t like them sullying the name of knighthood, and I hate seeing knighthood treated lightly.”

It felt as though his dream was being sullied. The stars and knights he had dreamed of in the underground city had not been like that. Perhaps this was merely the stubbornness of a boy who could let go of everything except his dream.

“Keep your word. Do not take oaths and promises lightly. Do what you believe is right.”

The precepts of a knight. The knight Najin wished to become.

“I just wanted to try living by those things. So I intend to keep my promise. Besides, I’m not particularly fond of that House Arbenia.”

“Does that explain it?” he asked. When Merlin gave no answer, Najin smiled bitterly and spoke.

“Of course it must seem foolish.”

It was laughable for someone who did not even hold a knighthood to act like this in an effort to uphold a knight’s precepts. Even knights called those among them who kept the precepts “foolish,” did they not?

-Clinging to things with no value.

Merlin spoke, having listened in on Najin’s reflections.

-Trying to uphold things you need not uphold. Risking your life to keep them, even when you gain nothing from doing so. Yes, as you say, that is foolish.

Then she said:

-But do you know something?

She laughed.

-The king I served was the most foolish person in the world. The man who placed his star at the highest point in that sky was a foolish knight known as the Fool.

Merlin continued.

-I wasn’t trying to determine whether your actions were right or wrong.

“Then what?”

-Whether you made that choice with full knowledge. Whether you intended to stand by your convictions despite knowing the danger. That was what I wanted to know. Now that I’ve confirmed it, that’s enough.

A short breath escaped her. Then Merlin whispered in a satisfied voice.

-Do as you wish.

-Walking the path is your part. Preparing for the worst is the guide’s.

Najin chuckled. He wrapped himself in the robe Pasion had given him, covered his face, and set off.

3.

Breaking a person was simple.

Dieta was learning that fact with agonizing clarity. She stared blankly at her ankles. Remembering what the knights had done to her as soon as they brought her into the villa, she could no longer even smile.

The moment she entered, they had changed completely.

The moment the villa’s door creaked shut, the knights seized Dieta’s arms and legs. They forced her to her knees, gagged her with a towel, and slashed her ankles with a sword wreathed in sword aura. They had severed her tendons.

With potions and a priest, the injury could readily be healed. But it was an injury Dieta could never heal on her own. Until she escaped this prison-like villa, she could no longer even walk without another person’s help.

This far. Would he truly go this far?

“Ah, ha...”

Dieta’s mouth twitched. She had thought herself concealed behind a mask, armored in an iron will, yet the moment her ankles were slashed, she had screamed disgracefully. She had no tolerance for pain.

From that moment on, Dieta had been forced to understand: this was a place meant to trample her utterly and break her. A cage meant to break a bird’s wings.

Here, she had to distrust everything.

Sleep disrupted by her throbbing ankles. Food laced with who knew what. Harassment from the servants, and windows nailed shut to deny her even sunlight. The empty room slowly ate away at Dieta’s mind.

... Breaking a person was easy.

However strong her will, Dieta was only a girl who had just reached adulthood. She was not a knight trained to withstand all manner of torture, nor did she have a high tolerance for pain.

With enough determination, breaking her would be no trouble at all.

She felt as though Osman’s mocking laughter lingered in her ears. Her mask was wavering. The means at her disposal had dwindled. She knew she needed to seek new ones, but her mind would not work properly.

GRIND

Dieta clenched her teeth. Alone in a room where she could not even tell how much time had passed, she could only cling to the mask that threatened to fall away.

And so she did not know.

She did not know that flames were rising in the small wood directly behind the villa. That servants were rushing out to extinguish the sudden blaze. And that, amid the commotion, a lone adventurer was on the move...

She did not know.