Sword Seekers.

They had reached a realm beyond merely weaving mana to produce sword aura: they could imbue that aura with their own mental imagery. The swordsmanship they displayed was fundamentally different from ordinary swordsmanship.

That was only natural.

The sword aura a Sword Seeker produced had its own shape and properties. One might scatter aura resembling flames, another aura like snowflakes. Even when they used the same swordsmanship, the reach and area of their cuts differed according to the shape of their aura.

They could swing a sword and burn the vegetation.

They could swing a sword and cleave someone standing far away.

As powerful warriors standing in the gap between humans and superhumans, their blades sometimes defied common sense. Just as one was doing now.

SHLAAASH!

Najin staggered backward.

Blood poured from his shoulder. He had thought he had fully blocked the blade, but he gritted his teeth as blood burst from the wound.

* * *

Najin was by no means weak.

He stood at the very pinnacle of Sword Experts, with no opponent among them capable of defeating him. His physical abilities and the output of his sword aura had long since surpassed an Expert's, and his split-second judgment held its own even against a Sword Seeker's.

Yet, despite all that, Najin was still a Sword Expert.

He had not yet reached the realm of a Sword Seeker.

People said that attainment did not decide every fight, but it decided most of them. The strength the combatants had accumulated was simply on different levels.

SPLASH!

Najin pressed a hand firmly against his bleeding shoulder and raised his head. Before him stood Griffin, the knight commander, his sword aura drawn forth.

The aura rippling over his sword was red.

It took the shape of a thorn tree, its sharp branches stretching outward. Keeping his distance, Najin narrowed his eyes.

'I thought I'd blocked it.'

The instant he blocked the sword, its extending aura had cut deep into his shoulder. Najin had only ever fought opponents whose sword aura held a fixed shape. Aura that changed its form was unfamiliar to him.

... Unfamiliar or not, he would have to get used to it.

This was not training where neither side intended to kill the other. This was real combat, with his life at stake. Naturally, he had no leisure to stand still and observe. Fleeing was not an option, either. He had to stop this man.

Keep Commander Griffin from reaching Dieta.

Stall him until the objective was achieved.

That was Najin's mission. With it engraved in his mind, he moved. He steadied his breathing and adjusted his sword. By the time he had gathered himself, Griffin was already advancing toward him.

TAP.

He took only a single step forward, yet Najin suddenly found Griffin right in front of him. He swung his sword reflexively.

KRRRRAAANG!

Sword aura collided with sword aura. Najin had grown to the point where no Expert could match him, but he could not fully withstand Griffin's aura. He was outclassed in its density, output, and the very cohesion of its structure.

Each time he blocked the sword, his aura was shaved away.

Even when Najin forced himself to hold his faltering stance, Griffin broke it down through sheer strength. Every swing sent a violent tremor through Najin's body.

CLANG!

At last, his stance shattered.

Najin's sword arm snapped backward, unable to withstand the recoil of the sword aura. Griffin's kick slammed into his now-exposed torso. He saw it coming, but could not evade it.

THWACK.

A kick delivered with a greave and military boot struck harder than a blow from most blunt weapons. The breath he had drawn in burst out all at once, and Najin's eyes widened. His body lifted backward into the air.

Air whistled past his ears. He was flying through it.

By the time someone became a Sword Seeker, their physical abilities had already reached a realm that could no longer be called human. Even Najin, an Expert, could send a hulking knight flying with a kick. There was no reason Griffin, a Sword Seeker, could not do the same.

The scenery flashed past Najin's eyes.

Griffin, who had been standing before him, receded into the distance.

No, he was not receding. Griffin stamped down the leg he had extended for his kick. The instant he pushed off the ground, his retreating figure closed in again. He had immediately pursued Najin as he flew backward.

'This is driving me fucking crazy.'

Najin swore inwardly and gritted his teeth.

He would be cut down if he stayed like this. Najin twisted in midair. Fortunately, they were in a forest, and even as he flew, there were things he could grab.

THUNK.

Najin reached out and caught the trunk of a tree passing beside him. He twisted around it, evading the sword Griffin swung as he caught up. Missing Najin by a hair, the blade cleanly severed the base of the tree he was holding.

Dodging it gave him no time to rest. The tree began to topple from its severed base. Najin kicked off it, escaping the reach of Griffin's sword.

Najin landed in a sliding skid and caught his breath. His abdomen throbbed where he had been struck. It felt as though a rib or two might have broken. Spitting out blood-tinged saliva, he looked at Griffin.

BOOOOM!

The tree fell to the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Griffin emerged through it, sweeping the dust aside, his eyes fixed squarely on Najin. He showed not the slightest sign of fatigue, and the red sword aura rising from his blade was utterly chilling.

He truly was a monster.

To Najin, the knight before him felt more terrifying than the Demon Knight whose body had regenerated no matter how many times he cut it.

'No wondrous swordsmanship, no dazzling tricks, no special movements.'

He simply kept swinging his sword with steadfast determination, pressing the attack.

Even that was threatening enough. This was a Sword Seeker. This was a swordsman who had reached a realm Najin had yet to touch. Steadying the ragged breathing caused by the blow to his abdomen, Najin lowered his sword.

'Use the terrain.'

Kick off the trees to move. Avoid a head-on contest and aim for his blind spots. Najin had a fair idea of how to face someone stronger than himself.

Just as he was about to move—

THUD.

Griffin stepped forward.

The ground shook. Gripping his sword with both hands, he drew it back behind him. The red sword aura surged and coiled together.

"...!"

Najin's eyes flew wide.

His instincts sounded an alarm. For an instant, his heart pounded fiercely. Instinct, reaction speed, and immediate judgment. Without considering the consequences, Najin took more mana into his body than it could bear.

The turbulent mana churned inside him, causing excruciating pain, but none of that mattered.

He had to move now. Drawing in more mana than he could tolerate allowed him to kick off the ground and leap high. The instant Najin leaped, Griffin swung his sword, and the red aura gathered on it lashed out like a whip.

CRACK, CRRRACK... BOOM.

Najin's eyes widened as he soared into the air.

Looking down, he saw trees swept entirely to one side, as though a giant had cleared them away with its hand. With a single swing, Griffin had blasted away every tree within a radius of roughly twenty paces.

'Fuck.'

Had he not strengthened his body and leaped in that instant, he would have ended up just like those utterly shattered trees. Landing in the clearing their destruction had created, Najin could only marvel in disbelief.

"..."

Standing at its center, Griffin merely watched Najin in silence. He said nothing, but Najin understood what he meant.

There was nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

If you thought this ground favored you, abandon that notion.

None of the little tricks Najin had relied on until now, none of his movements using the terrain, none of his techniques for slipping into blind spots would work against this man. A difference in attainment meant being able to maintain the upper hand even after accounting for all of those things.

'As I thought, I can't win.'

Perhaps he could if he drew Excalibur, but without it, he could not win. If he were truly cornered, he would have to draw it, but Najin had not yet considered going that far.

'But I can buy time.'

Winning would be welcome, but Najin's original objective was to stall. Once Dieta reached the gate and showed the invitation... the marquis's knights would come running here. If he held out until then, victory would be his.

So think.

Keep thinking.

Najin moved in time with Griffin's steps. The instant Griffin raised his sword, Najin accelerated. Closing the distance, he struck the flat of Griffin's blade before Griffin could complete his swing.

CLAAAANG!

Amid the deafening clash, Griffin's eyes met Najin's.

Griffin narrowed his eyes. Something felt wrong. His opponent was unquestionably an Expert, but those movements were not an Expert's.

The incongruity did not end there.

Najin moved before Griffin swung, persistently driving into openings as though he could see through his movements. His blade was not threatening, but Griffin could not deny that it was troublesome.

And what stood out most of all was—

THWACK!

The young man's split-second judgment.

Griffin was pushed backward. The armor covering his chest was dented. Najin had slipped right up to him and hammered his elbow into it. Striking the armor to force him back, he secured enough distance to swing his sword.

Each movement flowed smoothly into the next.

Watching Najin's sword fly toward his neck, Griffin felt surprise. He had not expected him to close in at that moment. Griffin swung his sword and knocked Najin's blade aside.

'He charges in even after seeing a blow like that.'

A blow that had blasted away the entire surrounding area.

Closing the distance after witnessing such a strike required more than ordinary courage. A normal person would keep their distance and watch cautiously, wary of that technique. That was the movement Griffin had sought to induce.

If his opponent kept away, Griffin could maintain the advantage with attacks that swept a broad area.

But the young man, undaunted by the technique, had immediately closed in. It was both unexpected and the best possible decision. With him probing openings and thrusting in from such close range, Griffin could not use a large-scale technique.

'I can handle it, but the instant I miss it, that blade becomes lethal.'

Griffin acknowledged that although his opponent was clearly weaker, he could not let his guard down. Even compared with Griffin's many years of wielding a sword, the young man's judgment fell short in no way. In fact, his reaction speed and judgment alone were superior to Griffin's.

He was not an opponent to take lightly.

Therefore—

Griffin could not kill him by fighting halfheartedly.

With respect for the young man before him, Griffin adjusted his stance. He had no desire to let this drag on any longer.

2.

Dieta ran toward the marquis's gate.

Perhaps "ran" was the wrong word. She was moving forward while dragging one unresponsive ankle behind her. Her pace was slow, her posture painfully awkward.

But anyone who saw her face as she took those steps would have been unable to urge her to hurry.

Drenched in cold sweat, teeth clenched, Dieta was walking as hard as she could. Every time her unresponsive foot dragged over the ground, a sharp pain ran up her spine. Though it had recovered, her other leg was far from sound, either.

Still, she walked.

Perhaps she ran.

Even the clash of swords behind her was beginning to fade into the distance. Eyes wide and teeth gritted, Dieta hurried her steps. She kept driving her body onward.

Najin was fighting.

He was risking his life, crossing blades with the knight commander to buy time. Dieta had to answer that effort. She did not want the efforts of the man who had refused to abandon her until the end, who had tried to keep his promise, to be meaningless.

The sooner she arrived, the greater Najin's chances of survival would be. Turning that fact over in her mind, Dieta took each step with all her strength.

'Please don't die.'

Dieta murmured the words inwardly.

The man she had opened her heart to.

The first person who had made her feel affection... no, something beyond it. Dieta wanted him to live. Once all of this was over, she wanted to speak with Najin again.

"Ngh!"

Dieta tripped over a jutting stone and tumbled to the ground.

But she immediately grabbed a tree and rose, limping onward toward the gate. As she emerged from the forest, it came into view.

Dieta ran.

Just as she had when she fled the ducal villa as a child, she ran toward the gate with all her strength.

3.

Sword Seekers learned swordsmanship suited to them.

Swordsmanship that made the best use of their aura's shape, the mental imagery within it, and its unique properties. After finding such a style, a Sword Seeker would combine it with their aura to create techniques of their own.

Griffin was no exception.

He was the knight commander of the ducal House Arbenia, and Duke Osman's foremost sword. Osman spared no investment in Griffin, his most cherished knight, and helped him learn swordsmanship suited to him once he reached the realm of a Seeker.

The swordsmanship Griffin acquired that way was—

A secret style originally held at the heart of the Empire.

The swordsmanship of the war hero Arta Trigardian.

The swordsmanship of a hero who had fought to protect the Sacred Tree from demons and heretics. No style could have better suited Griffin's sword, imbued with the image of a thorn tree. Thus, Griffin had spent decades honing it.

... Ordinarily, it was not a technique to display against some rabble of an adventurer who was not even a knight.

But Griffin acknowledged the opponent before him. And so he unleashed the swordsmanship he had honed. He stamped his raised foot down toward the earth.

The planted foot was the root of a mighty tree sunk into the earth.

The body standing upon the ground was its trunk.

The raised sword was its branch stretching toward the sky.

The red sword aura gathered on Griffin's blade stretched in every direction like a thorn tree. Aura bearing his mental imagery merged with his swordsmanship. What it created was a technique belonging to Griffin alone. Facing it, Najin let out a laugh utterly unsuited to the situation.

A Sword Seeker's swordsmanship. Opportunities to see it this close were rare. Najin etched the mana moving within Griffin's body into his eyes. Of course, copying it immediately was impossible.

Impossible, but—

That did not mean he could simply do nothing. He did not think he would survive being swept up in that sword aura resembling a mighty tree.