An arrow lodged in Najin's abdomen.

One, two, three. Three arrows buried themselves in rapid succession. Najin's eyes widened. There had been no preparatory movement whatsoever. Kaufman had neither made a show of drawing a bow nor raised a weapon.

Only when the fourth arrow fired did Najin realize they were coming from the small crossbow mounted on the back of Kaufman's hand.

His confusion had delayed his judgment by a second, allowing three arrows to strike, but he had no intention of allowing a fourth. He swung his sword and knocked it aside, stepping toward Kaufman as he did.

The distance was short. One step would put Kaufman within reach of his sword.

Why Kaufman had attacked him, why he knew about the underground city of Atman—those questions could wait. First, he had to act.

SWISH!

Najin closed the gap in an instant and swung. At this range, a swordsman had the advantage over an archer. Hadn't Ivan said that an unseen Ranger was frightening, but one you could see wasn't nearly so dangerous?

... Najin's judgment wasn't wrong.

What he had overlooked, however, was that Kaufman Theosis was in an entirely different league from ordinary Rangers. Kaufman's arm shot out from beneath his poncho, a rough-edged machete in hand. The instant it collided with Najin's sword—

CLANG!

With a deafening clash, Najin's arm was flung back. Kaufman's strength surpassed his own. Knocking the sword aside left Najin's abdomen exposed, and Kaufman kicked it. The arrows, kept from penetrating deeply by Najin's armor, cracked beneath the sole of Kaufman's military boot.

Their shafts snapped, and all three arrows drove deeper.

Najin frowned and gritted his teeth, shifting his grip on his sword. Curling forward, he swung to drive his longsword into Kaufman's leg, but—

Inscription Release: Rupture.

BOOOOM!

As the spells inscribed on the arrowheads were released, three explosions erupted in succession inside Najin's abdomen.

"Gah!"

The arrowheads burst, scattering metal fragments like buckshot deep into his body. Caught squarely in the explosions, Najin lost his balance and was lifted into the air.

Another opening.

A throwing dagger was already in Kaufman's right hand beneath the poncho. He hurled it while swinging the machete in his left. The movements were nearly simultaneous, making it exceedingly difficult for Najin, thrown off balance by the explosions, to counterattack or defend himself.

Difficult, however, did not mean impossible.

Najin's bloodshot eyes widened. He had anticipated Kaufman's next attack, and that foresight let him respond even with his stance broken. Forcing his pain-stiffened body to move, he swung his sword.

CLANG!

He knocked the machete aside.

SWISH!

He ducked beneath a thrown dagger.

But he couldn't evade them all. One dagger buried itself in his shoulder. Seeing it glow bright blue, Najin leaped far backward, tore it out, and hurled it away.

BOOM!

Fortunately, he had reacted in time.

Najin gritted his teeth as the dagger exploded immediately after he threw it. His abdomen throbbed. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. Spitting out the blood filling his mouth, he frowned.

He had made the wrong decision.

He had opened up the distance.

Against an archer, that was the worst possible move. Najin stared at Kaufman's greatbow, already aimed at him. An arrowhead gleamed at its tip.

TWANG!

SWISH!

The instant Kaufman released the bowstring, Najin swung his sword. When the enormous arrow struck his blade, pain tore through his shoulder as though it were being ripped off. Fired from the greatbow, the arrow was almost as thick as a longsword, and its stopping power exceeded anything Najin had imagined.

SCREEEECH!

Sparks flew between blade and arrow. Though Najin had planted his feet firmly, his soles scraped along the ground as he was driven far backward. With a strained creak, he forced more strength into his arms and barely managed to throw the arrow aside, only to find...

SWIIIIISH!

Another arrow was already bearing down on him. It flew at precisely the height that prevented him from evading it by leaning his head back, ducking, or jumping. Unable to swing his sword again immediately, he had no choice but to sacrifice part of his body.

Grinding his teeth, Najin twisted.

The arrow grazed his side. Even that glancing contact tore his flesh with a wet thud. Blood poured from the hole it left. Despite the pain contorting his face, Najin kept his eyes open, and thanks to that, he saw it.

Kaufman was drawing his bowstring again.

His opponent was a hunter who never relinquished the initiative once he seized it. In the end, Najin chose to flee. He had decided there was no way to gain the upper hand by confronting Kaufman here. Turning his back on a Ranger and giving him time was the worst possible move, but...

To survive, he had to run.

Barely evading the incoming arrow, Najin sprinted deeper into the underground waterways. Kaufman watched him flee, then let out a long breath and began his pursuit.

The hunter's eyes gleamed in the darkness.

2.

Kaufman Theosis was a seasoned hunter.

Having served for many years in the Techel Mountains along the border, hunting those who acted against the Empire, he had mastered the art of the hunt.

Imperial knights seeking asylum abroad.

Mages attempting to sell imperial technology to other countries.

Countless escaped criminals, and sometimes the kingdom's troops.

Having hunted all manner of people, strong and weak alike, in all manner of environments, Kaufman knew better than anyone how a hunt should begin. Hunting began with observation. All the more so when facing a powerful opponent.

The prey's characteristics. Its smallest habits.

Its movements and reaction speed.

The weapons it used, its fighting style, and so on.

The more information he had, the easier the hunt became. That was why Kaufman had gathered every scrap of information he could about the adventurer called Ivan... no, the young man named Najin, and observed him with his own eyes.

'An absolute fucking lunatic.'

Kaufman could only marvel as he gathered information. According to his client, the young man was eighteen. To approach the realm of a Sword Seeker at just eighteen was absurd. His talent defied common sense.

Hadn't even Karon, a genius among geniuses, only become a Sword Seeker at thirty? A Sword Seeker at eighteen. Kaufman knew how preposterous that was.

And that wasn't all.

Slaying a Demon Knight, surviving a duel with the commander of the ducal House Arbenia's knights... He even had a record of challenging opponents stronger than himself and surviving time after time. Someone intoxicated by his own talent could never have done that.

That was why Kaufman had observed him firsthand.

And he had been forced to acknowledge it.

The young man possessed more than talent. He could make decisions in an instant and act on them with fearless resolve. He had what it took to ascend to those lofty heights.

... And Kaufman had to kill him.

Because he had received the commission. Because he could not refuse it. Pursuing the fleeing Najin, Kaufman took a cigarette from his waist, stuck it between his lips, and lit it.

"... Goddammit."

Kaufman took a long, very long drag, exhaled, and clicked his tongue. Whether he felt like shit or wanted to grind his client's face to pulp, the hunt had begun. Once begun, it had to be finished.

Otherwise, he would die.

Kaufman never let his guard down.

Even when he held the advantage, even when he was the stronger one... He had experienced the tables turning time and again, and he had turned them himself.

Above all, the young man he was pursuing had the talent and judgment to overturn the situation. The way he had surged upstream to land a blow even after suffering a potentially fatal injury from Pauve was beyond the capabilities of an ordinary person.

'He demolished the dark mage Pauve head-on.'

He still had other means hidden away.

So keep the pressure on. Give him nothing.

With that thought, Kaufman followed Najin's trail. Since Kaufman had blocked the route upward, Najin had fled deeper into the underground waterways.

And down there...

BOOOOM!

A thunderous blast shook the waterways. Kaufman tossed his spent cigarette into the channel and scratched the back of his neck. Looked like Najin had triggered a trap.

Kaufman had arrived in the city the previous night.

And the hunt had begun that very night.

He had laid traps throughout the underground waterways. He had hoped a dark mage might stumble into them, but it didn't matter who did. Dark mages and Najin were both prey to him.

RUSTLE.

The skin at the back of his neck crumbled beneath his scratching fingers, and blood flowed. Scratching the brand etched into his neck, Kaufman headed toward the sound.

3.

["Rangers are real fucking bastards."]

["Why? Because the traps they lay will drive you up the fucking wall. Setting traps like that is a talent in itself. If you ask me, a Ranger's level is determined by just how fucking nasty his traps are."]

["That bastard Horse is damn good at laying traps."]

["Ah, the things he comes up with. Creative, I'll give him that."]

["It's hard to screw people over that thoroughly. I'm a gentle man, but just looking at his traps sends my blood pressure soaring. What? You don't think I'm all that gentle?"]

["Tsk. Doesn't the fact that I'm not smacking you upside the head right now prove how gentle I am? Huh, you brat?"]

["Well. Anyway."]

["Rangers are most frightening when you can't see them. And if they show themselves to you... they've already finished preparing for the hunt. You know what they call Horse, right?"]

["The Spider."]

["That's actually similar to an insult people up above use for Rangers. A few of my seniors called them spider bastards."]

["They spread their webs and slowly wear their prey down to death."]

["Then, once the prey has no strength left, they sink their fangs into it. That's why they call them spiders."]

["Similar, aren't they? The way they hunt."]

["That's how Rangers hunt."]

["Well... you won't ever have to fight Horse, but keep it in mind. The longer you fight a Ranger, the worse your position becomes. Either finish it fast or run far away. You've got to do one or the other."]

["And if you can't do either?"]

["Well, what else can you do?"]

["You'll have to take a gamble."]

"Whew..."

Clutching his side, Najin let out a long breath. The fatigue accumulated in his battle with Pauve and the injuries sustained against Kaufman were eating away at his mind.

Blood flowed from his arrow-pierced side. His abdomen, struck directly by the explosions and embedded with arrowhead fragments, throbbed with every step.

"Ngh..."

Groaning, Najin kept moving as he pulled arrowhead fragments from his body. If those had been his only injuries, he would have been fortunate, but triggering a trap during his escape had added more. Now even taking a step demanded caution.

These underground waterways were full of traps.

Traps whose workings he couldn't begin to understand, hidden everywhere out of sight. Moving while keeping watch for them doubled his mental exhaustion.

But he did not give up thinking.

Again and again, Najin went over what he knew about Rangers and the things he had overheard from Ivan. He had to find a way to turn this situation around.

["You can't play along on the board they've set up."]

["You've got to overturn it, even if it means doing something insane."]

Ivan and Offen had taught Najin so much. To them, those conversations might have been nothing more than idle chatter over clinking drinks, but to Najin, their stories had been the world itself. That was why he remembered them so clearly.

["Hey, Offen. You know that story?"]

["Which story?"]

["The one where you screwed over a Ranger. No matter how often I hear it, there's no better story to drink to."]

["I've lost count of how many times I've told it."]

["Najin hasn't heard it yet, has he? Tell it one more time."]

Offen's story of the outside world.

Ivan chiming in, clapping and exclaiming in admiration, "This guy was completely insane!" The sight of his two mentors clinking glasses beneath the sunset-colored lights, and of himself picking at the snacks, lingered in Najin's mind.

There was a clue in that story.

Najin made his choice.

'Merlin.'

"Go ahead."

'Find me a path, please.'

Najin asked Merlin—his guide, who would be sharing the same sights and thoughts—to find a path that would make this approach succeed.

The plan Najin had conceived was only a framework.

Merlin fleshed it out, completing the unfinished picture.

That was her role.