Kephalon, a dark mage of Seven Circles.

A traitor who had used Regenof as his base in an attempt to overthrow the state some sixty years ago. Although his plan had failed, the incident had nearly shaken the Empire's thousand-year history to its foundations. The Empire therefore shuddered at anything connected to Kephalon.

The “Ritual of Transcendence” he had attempted in Regenof had been the decisive factor, but even before that, he had perpetrated countless massacres, a verminous wretch gnawing away at the Empire.

And so, the discovery of Kephalon's workshop sitting right beneath Regenof inevitably made both the Empire and the Order of Starblood sit up and take notice.

『Didn't you say you personally saw to burning it all down?』

『It's written right here. “All records and traces eradicated under the direction of Adrion, master of the Red Mage Tower.” It would seem my memory was not mistaken...』

『What are you doing?』

『Bring me the man responsible.』

The young emperor personally summoned the master of the Red Mage Tower.

The former tower master, who had retired some thirteen years earlier and was enjoying a leisurely life farming on his estate, was dragged to the imperial court by this unexpected summons and kicked in the shins. His ideological loyalties were scrutinized while they were at it.

While the emperor personally gave the former Red Tower master hell, the Order of Starblood dispatched its executioner directly to Regenof to settle the matter.

... And that was how things had arrived at the present situation.

2.

A witness to the series of events, and the first to discover the workshop.

As Najin was deeply involved in the incident, the order's executioner had requested an interview with him during her visit to Regenof. Of course, he was under no obligation to comply.

He was merely a person of interest to the investigation, after all.

But having no obligation did not mean he could refuse. When the order's executioner—a Sword Master, no less—specifically requested an interview, there was no telling what repercussions a refusal might bring.

'It might be different if I belonged to the imperial court or came from a ducal house...'

At the very least, this was not an interview a mere adventurer could refuse. That was why Najin had stayed in Regenof to await the order's executioner.

And now he had met her.

His first impression was chilling.

White hair and skin so white it was pallid. At a glance, she looked to be in her early to mid-twenties, but Najin reminded himself that she had lived for at least 150 years.

'It's hard to judge someone's age by appearance alone.'

“Of course. Once you reach Sword Seeker, your appearance stays as it was in your youth. At Master, you're free of the limits of a lifespan altogether.”

Merlin replied indifferently.

“A hundred and fifty? She's in her prime.”

In her prime at 150? Najin decided to disregard the words of a mage who had lived for over a thousand years. Her sense of time evidently differed from his.

CLICK.

Yuel Razian began walking toward him from the distance.

Her gait showed none of the formality characteristic of those in high positions. If anything, her steps were light and somewhat languid.

'Ah, this...'

The direction of her steps. The focus of Yuel Razian's red eyes. Realizing that both pointed directly at where he stood, Najin groaned inwardly.

'I think she's singled me out.'

“Looks that way, doesn't it?”

Ignoring the city's lord, the inquisitors, and Hite, who had overseen the operation against Pauve, Yuel walked straight toward Najin.

With a final sharp footfall, she stopped before him. Her face remained expressionless, seemingly devoid of emotion. Up close, she seemed like a finely crafted doll, as though the movement he had seen at the corners of her mouth earlier had been an illusion.

She tilted her head, her hair slipping with the movement. Through the rippling strands of white hair, Yuel looked at Najin.

“What is your name?”

The question came without warning.

Najin cocked his head, momentarily failing to recognize that the voice belonged to the person before him. That was how incongruous Yuel's voice sounded.

It was thinner than he had imagined, almost sweet and clear.

It hardly suited a murderous fiend who had slaughtered tens or hundreds of thousands of people. Belatedly steadying his breath, Najin answered.

“Ivan.”

“Ah, you are the witness in this case. I have heard about you. A pleasure to meet you.”

Yuel continued to speak politely.

Yet those around them seemed to find nothing particularly unusual about it. Belatedly, Najin remembered one piece of information about Yuel Razian.

She addressed everyone politely.

Because, to her, everyone was simply the same.

She spoke with equal courtesy to the emperor, the sun of the Empire, and to beggars lying in the streets. A few people had taken issue with that, but...

'None who objected still have their heads attached to their necks.'

So that was why no one even looked uncomfortable. Quickly understanding, Najin meekly accepted her courtesy.

“There is no need to waste time.”

Yuel spoke calmly.

Leaving aside its almost sweet timbre, her voice had no inflection whatsoever. In that incongruous voice, she said,

“Please lead the way.”

She pointed at Najin.

She had originally requested an interview with him, and someone else had been assigned to guide her. But as though none of that concerned her, she continued, still pointing at Najin.

“This gentleman will guide me. Everyone else, attend to your duties. I do not expect this to take long.”

The inquisitors bowed and dispersed as though accustomed to this. Only the lord and Hite remained, staring blankly at Yuel.

“Do you have something to say?”

“W-well...”

At a look from the lord, Hite spoke.

“Might you require anyone to accompany you, or personnel such as knights...?”

Yuel tilted her head at the question. Still expressionless, she opened her mouth.

“Pardon?”

Her voice was questioning.

At her apparent inability to understand why he would ask such a thing, Hite belatedly realized his mistake. Bowing his head, he apologized for misspeaking and cleared the way.

Yuel Razian had never needed companions in the first place.

Nor could she possibly need personnel such as knights.

Like those superhumans who had attained transcendence, Yuel Razian possessed strength beyond the bounds of humanity. She could not be measured by ordinary standards.

Even if every fighting force stationed in this city—every knight and mage, and all the mercenaries and soldiers still present—attacked her together, they would not draw a single drop of blood.

That was what it meant to be a Sword Master.

Yuel tilted her head once more, then set off toward the underground waterways with Najin in tow.

3.

“This way.”

As he guided Yuel, Najin revised his impression of her slightly. Merlin's stories had conjured the image of an unpredictable lunatic crazed for blood...

CLICK.

But the Yuel following him now seemed like an emotionless doll. He could no longer feel even a trace of the intense killing intent she had radiated when stepping out of the carriage. It was as though what he had experienced then had been an illusion.

How long had they walked?

Najin reached the depths of the underground waterways, the place he had arrived at while pursuing Pauve. Turning toward the wall, he saw the passage to Kephalon's workshop. The inquisitors had already undone its seal.

“That is the place, then.”

Yuel stepped forward with a sharp click.

She moved ahead of Najin, leaving him to follow her now. As they descended the passage to the workshop, she spoke.

“You said your name was Ivan?”

“Yes.”

“Your age?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“I do not like lies.”

Her voice remained inflectionless, making it difficult to discern the emotions or intentions behind her words.

“According to my identification, I am twenty-eight.”

“So you are using a false identity. Under imperial law, that is no minor offense, but it is a matter for imperial officials, not my jurisdiction. I mean that I have no interest in it.”

Yuel stopped walking.

She turned to look at Najin, her eyes gleaming red even in the darkness.

“I asked your age. This is personal curiosity. I have no intention of harming you.”

Najin knew instinctively. That was a warning. There was no telling what would happen if he lied again. Even so, he took another step forward.

“If you promise or swear not to divulge it to anyone, I will tell you my age.”

“Are you aware that I have the authority and power to compel you to reveal your identity? I also have many means of forcing you to speak.”

“I am.”

“And still you wish me to swear?”

“Yes.”

Yuel looked at Najin.

Her gleaming red eyes gazed into sunset-colored eyes that met her stare without wavering. A few seconds passed.

The corners of Yuel's mouth shifted, however slightly, into a grin.

“Very well. I shall swear. In the name of the Martyr of the Thorn Vines, patron deity of the Order of Starblood, I swear. The conversation we have just had will not be divulged to anyone outside it.”

“Will that suffice?”

Najin nodded at her question.

“Your age?”

“Eighteen.”

“You are very young.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. A child, rather than merely young. Considering your level of attainment, astonishingly young. Remarkable.”

Yuel applauded with a stony expression.

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP.

The dry applause echoed. When Najin looked at her dubiously, Yuel stopped clapping and tilted her head.

“Do you dislike being applauded?”

“I am confused because I cannot tell what you are trying to say. Nor do I understand your intentions.”

“Applause is my way of expressing surprise. There is no other meaning, so please smile.”

Yuel pushed up the corners of her own mouth with both hands.

“A Sword Master's applause is a rare thing. My surprise is rarer still. So please be pleased.”

Najin forced a smile.

Only then did Yuel turn and resume walking, seemingly satisfied. She seemed a little strange.

“Do you expect a murderous fiend who has slaughtered hundreds of thousands to be sane?”

Fair point. Half listening to Merlin, Najin followed Yuel. Even as they descended to the workshop, she continued speaking to him.

“If this became public, it would throw the Empire into an uproar. The Sword Saint Karon might come straight to see you. He certainly would, being who he is.”

Little by little, inflection crept into her previously flat voice. Najin noticed it becoming tinged with elation.

“But it was I who first met and discovered you. Remember that. Yuel Razian is the first Sword Master you have encountered.”

“I am honored.”

“It is an honor, is it not?”

Yuel stopped.

They were deep inside Kephalon's workshop. She did not so much as blink at the terrible sights spread out before them. Nor did she show any dismay.

“It is also unfortunate.”

Yuel sighed.

There was heat in her breath. As though unable to bear it, she slipped a hand inside her uniform and produced a water bottle.

As if tormented by thirst, she uncapped it and tipped it into her mouth.

Najin frowned as the pungent scent of extremely strong liquor reached him. It was alcohol, not water. Emptying the bottle in one go, Yuel let out a long breath.

“It is truly unfortunate that I have no justification for wielding my sword against you.”

“... Pardon?”

The remark came out of nowhere.

As Najin stood bewildered, Yuel continued.

“Under imperial law, assuming a false identity is a serious crime. But since you have the Cambria Foundation's sponsorship, an exemption applies, and I cannot punish you.”

She was talking to herself.

“Imperial law grants me the authority to pass summary judgment, but I cannot exercise it against you. The same applies to my authority as the Order of Starblood's executioner. I may question you, but only through conversation, not force. You are not yet guilty of any crime.”

She was also questioning herself, searching for a reason that would permit her to wield her sword.

“On our way down here, I observed the energy within your body. Such abnormal attainment at a young age. I suspected a pact with a demon. If I detected even a trace of demonic energy, I could wield my sword against you as the order's executioner. But there was none. You are entirely clean.”

She let out a long sigh.

“If I wield my sword against you, it would plainly be illegal and contrary to doctrine. How unfortunate. I thought this was a fine opportunity...”

Sighing, Yuel reached into empty air.

The moment she clenched her hand around it, the scenery warped. The distortion soon took shape, rippling in her grasp.

Though she had seized nothing but empty air, a greatsword was now in her hand.

The moment she gripped the greatsword, Najin reflexively backed away. Dense killing intent filled the space, incomparably stronger than what she had radiated upon leaving the carriage. As though it possessed physical mass, it pressed down on everything from above.

Najin's eyes became bloodshot. Every sense in his body sharpened, and by the time he came to his senses, he had already drawn his sword.

“The mental fortitude to withstand killing intent, the instinct to create distance, the reflexes of a swordsman drawing his blade. Excellent. Truly unfortunate.”

Sword in hand, Yuel turned only her head to look at Najin. She was smiling. Elation and regret mingled in her blood-red, gleaming eyes.

“Under imperial law, a death in a duel conducted by mutual consent is legal. If I challenge you, will you accept?”

A duel with a Sword Master.

If the Sword Saint had issued that challenge, Najin would have gladly accepted. The Sword Saint would naturally hold back, and his purpose would be to assess Najin's swordsmanship and teach him.

But the person before him was different.

She had only one aim. A bloody duel in which they lunged for each other's lives. A fight to the death that would not end until life and death were decided. The instant he accepted, he would lose his head.

'What if I draw Excalibur?'

No. He would still lose, without fail.

Their levels were different. Their experience was different. They existed on different planes. Najin knew that even summoning Excalibur would not bridge that gulf.

“I must... decline.”

“A contest with a Sword Master is a valuable experience.”

“An experience only has meaning if I survive it.”

“That is not incorrect.”

Yuel nodded.

“In that case, I shall postpone our duel.”

Letting out a regretful breath, she turned to face forward. Kephalon's workshop lay before her. As the Order of Starblood's executioner, Yuel had the authority to dispose of that workshop completely.

“I shall have to settle for cutting that down.”

She swung the greatsword in one hand.

And Najin saw it.

The things before him were cut out of the world as though someone were snipping a newspaper with scissors. The phenomenon came first, and the sound followed.

SCREEEEEEEEEECH!

The sword's cry rang out, resembling a human scream.