Wolfhild, a knight of the marquisal House Trevache.

As always, he sat atop the ramparts, looking down over the estate. It was one of his few hobbies. The estate was as peaceful as ever, with no apparent problems. As he sat lost in thought, feeling the breeze, someone approached.

Someone was coming toward the gate.

The unannounced visitor was a girl whose appearance struck him as unusual. She limped toward the gate, looking as though something were chasing her. The soldiers guarding the gate noticed her as well.

Sensing that something was amiss, they approached to support her and asked why she had come to the marquis's estate.

Wolfhild watched in silence, then narrowed his eyes when the girl took something from inside her clothes. It was a letter. There was a considerable distance between them, but his eyesight had already surpassed human limits.

He saw the crest upon the letter.

It was the crest of House Trevache, one that only the lord of this estate could affix. The moment he confirmed that, Wolfhild leaped from the ramparts. Despite the towering height, he landed without a resounding crash.

TAP

Wolfhild nodded in acknowledgment of the salutes from the soldiers who recognized him, then approached the girl. He lowered himself and paid his respects. The marquis sent such letters only to honored guests. That alone was reason enough to show courtesy.

“Are you the marquis's guest? Allow me to escort you to the manor. If you would give me the letter...”

“It's not me.”

The girl interrupted him. Wolfhild looked at her with narrowed eyes. After drawing a breath, she forced herself to enunciate clearly.

“Ivan, the adventurer from Cambria.”

Wolfhild remembered that name.

The marquis had taken an interest in the adventurer, saying, [“To think someone like this still remains. Truly remarkable.”] He was also the man who had stayed with Wolfhild's comrade in his final moments.

“This letter belongs to him.”

“Where is he?”

The girl answered Wolfhild's question.

Despite her obvious urgency, her explanation was concise and sufficient for him to understand the situation. Frowning, Wolfhild summarized her words.

“Are you saying that the commander of the ducal House Arbenia's knights attacked you and that adventurer while you were on your way to visit this estate?”

It was an abbreviated account, with much left out.

The girl had not told him everything. She had set the details aside and summarized only the immediate situation. Even so, this was not something he could simply overlook.

A knight from another territory had threatened the marquis's guest near his estate?

That was an affront to the name of House Trevache. The fact remained unchanged even if the offender was the commander of a ducal house's knights. Wolfhild found the situation offensive. But he knew indignation alone was not enough to justify action.

He should inform his lord, discuss the situation, and then proceed with caution.

That was the normal, customary response. If the person before him had committed a serious crime against the ducal house, the justification would lie with them. But the situation was too urgent to weigh every consideration.

“Tell me where he is.”

And so Wolfhild made his choice.

“I will hear the details on the way. Guard, bring a warhorse. Summon the knights nearby, then inform the marquis of what has happened.”

He chose to act before consulting his lord. He had the authority to do so, and he was certain that, had his lord been present, he would have made the same decision.

Understand even what goes unspoken.

Grasp his wishes and act first.

Always advise your lord on the right path.

That was what loyalty meant to Wolfhild. He was the commander of the marquisal house's knights, a knight whom Marquis Edelmar had granted autonomy. The marquis respected and trusted his judgment.

SWISH, CLACK

He secured the greatbow slung across his back.

At his waist, instead of a sword, hung a quiver holding some fifteen arrows, each about as long as an ordinary longsword. Only now noticing this, the girl... Dieta realized who stood before her.

The commander of House Trevache's knights.

Wolfhild, the knight who wielded a greatbow.

Dieta had been fortunate indeed that he had been sitting atop the gate.

2.

With Dieta mounted on his warhorse, Wolfhild rode with the other knights. His eyes widened as he listened to her story.

“... You are Lady Dieta?”

He had realized the identity of the girl speaking to him.

The daughter of the ducal House Arbenia.

Though called an abandoned child, she was still undeniably a member of the ducal house. Of course, Wolfhild knew her better as Cambria's great merchant.

He could not be certain, but if this girl truly was that Lady Dieta... the situation was more complicated than he had imagined. Wolfhild urged his warhorse onward with a frown.

“Why would the commander of your own house's knights pursue you, my lady?”

“It's complicated. Still, once we reach our destination, I'll have the stronger justification. If we can just save Ivan first...”

Listening to her, Wolfhild could only look bitter. He was sorry for the young lady, but all he could tell her was that they were already too late.

The commander of the ducal House Arbenia's knights.

Griffin, the Red Thorn Tree.

Wolfhild knew him well. Having reached the realm of a Sword Seeker and mastered the swordsmanship of the war hero Arta Trigardian, Griffin was a formidable opponent even for him.

'That adventurer Ivan is a Sword Expert. Skilled though he may be...'

He could not possibly hold out long against someone as powerful as a knight commander. He would probably already be a corpse, or surely be in no condition to lift a sword. Wolfhild regretted that.

A young man who had brought peace to his comrade's soul and retained a knightly spirit rarely seen in this age.

Seeing such a young man cut down here would hardly be a welcome sight. Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Wolfhild drove his warhorse onward. As he rode along the forest path, his eyes suddenly narrowed.

THUD, BOOM, THUD...

The ground was shaking. He could hear the noise.

It was the aftermath of blows exchanged in battle. Wolfhild dismounted. Sending the knights following him ahead, he climbed high into a tree.

Bracing his feet against a thick trunk, he opened his eyes wide. His field of vision expanded in an instant. Before him lay the forest and a clearing artificially created in its midst. At the center of that clearing grew a red thorn tree.

'... They're still fighting?'

The thorn tree had grown to roughly five meters.

That meant Commander Griffin was fighting in earnest. Wolfhild's surprise that the battle still remained undecided lasted only a moment.

A flash.

Light from the sword of the young man facing Griffin entered his field of vision. A cluster of light blossomed pure white. Pure-white sword aura that resembled a star. Just as it caught Wolfhild's eye, that aura cut through a red branch.

Wolfhild's eyes widened. The young man had cut through a Sword Seeker's aura, however small a portion. Wolfhild knew what that meant. With a disbelieving laugh, he reached behind his back.

Grasping his greatbow, he braced his boots firmly against a thick branch. He steadied his breathing and drew the bowstring until it was stretched taut to its limit.

Watching the fight, Wolfhild released the string at the perfect moment. Right up until he released it, he could not tear his eyes from the young man's fighting spirit.

“Quite an exceptional fellow.”

Wolfhild chuckled.

He had seen clearly with his own eyes that the young man's reputation for slaying the Demon Knight was not exaggerated in the slightest. Perhaps... it even understated his ability.

3.

“Halt.”

Knights stood in a line, their menacing blades pointed at Griffin. With a sigh, he raised both arms above his head.

“This is the territory of House Trevache.”

“Near its territory, to be precise. I know this place does not lie within its boundaries.”

“You know that is not the point. Even outside the boundaries, this land is firmly within Trevache's sphere of influence.”

Griffin looked at the assembled knights.

House Trevache's knights were strong. Their lord, Marquis Edelmar, devoted great care to training them.

Taking them all on would be difficult.

More importantly, he must not fight them. That would amount to declaring war on the marquisal house.

“What brings you all this way...”

As Griffin was choosing his words, a voice came from deep in the forest. Wolfhild, arriving after the others on his warhorse, spoke.

“... Sir Griffin?”

Griffin's expression hardened.

Dieta was riding behind Wolfhild on the warhorse. Realizing that the situation had turned completely against him, Griffin let out a long breath.

“Duke Osman ordered me to punish the criminal who broke into a villa owned by House Arbenia and abducted Lady Dieta, and to bring her back.”

“Is that so? The account I heard was somewhat different.”

Wolfhild narrowed his eyes.

With his help, Dieta dismounted.

“It's the other way around, Sir Griffin.”

Having dismounted, Dieta spoke.

“It was House Arbenia that abducted me. That man is a guard I hired. What happened was an effort to rescue me. Damaging the ducal house's villa is no minor offense... but there is something we must discuss before that.”

She enunciated every word clearly. Wolfhild, who had heard the circumstances, took up where she left off.

“That man is a guest of the noble Marquis Edelmar. The marquis ordered us to welcome him whenever he visits the estate. Surely the damage to the villa can be discussed later?”

The claim that he had abducted the duke's daughter was false.

The only offense remaining against Najin was damage to a villa in the course of carrying out his duties as a guard. Griffin realized that he had lost the advantage in justification.

“That is...”

“Sir Griffin,” Wolfhild said.

“I have a duty to receive the marquis's guest. I have grounds to act. Of course, you could not have known that, so I am willing to overlook the disturbance thus far.”

“However...” Wolfhild ran his fingers over the arrows in his quiver.

“If you persist in the discourtesy of attempting to seize the marquis's guest before Trevache's knights, we will have no choice but to act. We each have our positions to uphold.”

“Is that Marquis Edelmar's will?”

“It is my judgment.”

Griffin narrowed his eyes.

“I am the commander of the ducal House Arbenia's knights.”

“I am aware.”

“This task was ordered directly by the duke, who emphasized that it must be accomplished. So I ask you: can you bear the consequences? What will Marquis Edelmar think of this...?”

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

Trevache's knights drew their swords sharply. Their demeanor changed in an instant. Wolfhild was no different. His eyes widened as he gripped his greatbow tightly.

“Do not presume to interpret his will.”

Understanding the marquis's will was not Griffin's task, but that of those who served him. Wolfhild warned him that this was no matter for a knight from another territory to meddle in.

“... I was discourteous. You have my apology.”

Griffin sighed and stepped back.

“I was merely advising you that this incident could develop into a complicated dispute between our houses.”

“I appreciate the advice, but my decision stands,” Wolfhild said curtly.

“I ask that you leave.”

Griffin ran a hand down his face, then began to walk away. Further confrontation here seemed unlikely to change anything. After a few steps, he paused and glanced back.

Najin stood there, watching him.

The young man had refused to yield to the very end and had won victory in his own way. Looking at him, Griffin found himself thinking that they would meet again before long.

And when they did, the young man would be a knight, not an adventurer. That was what Griffin thought. He was a talent Griffin coveted, but not one he could obtain. Griffin smiled bitterly.

“Lady Dieta.”

Griffin looked at her.

“You have an excellent guard.”

He had no choice but to admit defeat.

With those parting words, Griffin walked away, leaving Trevache's knights behind.

* * *

“Hah, haaah...”

Najin exhaled raggedly.

The excessive mana had ravaged his insides, and pushing his mana use to the limit had left his vision blurred. He had not felt such weakness since facing Ivan in the underground city.

He felt as though he would collapse if he relaxed even slightly.

That was why he had stayed alert until everything was over. Only after Griffin turned his back and left did Najin sink to the ground, all but collapsing.

'I'm so exhausted I feel like I'm dying.'

-Of course you are. You weren't ready yet, but you poured your mental image into your sword and swung it around recklessly. How could your body possibly hold up?

'Didn't you say earlier that I'd already found the catalyst?'

-That's one thing. This is another.

Merlin grinned.

-You'd barely taken your first steps. If you broke into a run, it would be stranger if you didn't fall. Well, still...

She whispered to Najin.

-You were pretty impres... No, you did all right.

Had she been about to say he was impressive?

As usual, she could not bring herself to be honest. Najin smiled wryly and lowered his head. His consciousness was growing hazy. He would probably need to rest for a while.

Still, Trevache's knights had intervened, and Dieta's safety was assured. Surely he could get some sleep now.

Through his blurring vision, Najin saw someone running toward him. It was Dieta, hurrying over with a limp.

“Are you... all right...?”

He caught fragments of Dieta's tearful voice. As she spoke, Najin closed his eyes. He could no longer resist the exhaustion.

“...! Wh-what do I do!”

Before losing consciousness, Najin thought that the tearful voice beside his ear seemed to have grown a little louder.