The sun set, and evening came to Camelot.

Darkness, however, did not.

As the sun sank, the streetlights came on one after another. Magic-stone lamps hung outside every shop glittered, and the light spilling from the shops painted the streets in every color. The imperial capital looked quite different from how it did by day.

Najin walked through it toward their meeting place.

'The imperial capital really is something else.'

Najin looked around in amazement. These buildings were unlike anything he had seen—not only in the underground city, but even in Cambria, the City of Opportunity, or other nobles' domains. It suddenly struck him that the capital seemed at least several decades ahead of everywhere else in technology.

-There are mage towers here, you know.

'Pardon?'

-Places where mages live generally develop quickly. That goes without saying when there's a mage tower. And there are seven of them here, aren't there?

Najin nodded, and Merlin continued with an oddly emphatic tone.

-I'm not just saying this because I'm a mage, but no other profession contributes as much to technological progress. So what that means is...

As Merlin abruptly launched into a lecture on “The Correlation Between Mages and Technological Progress,” Najin rapidly lost interest.

He had been with Merlin for half a year now. Since he spent every waking hour of every day with her, he knew perfectly well that not everything Merlin said was worth listening to. He let her words go in one ear and out the other.

'She really is an incredible person, though.'

An archmage who had lived for over a thousand years. A great Constellation with eleven stars.

Countless mages prayed to the stars above just to hear Merlin's voice once, but half a year in her company would change their minds somewhat.

-Of course, to tell this story, I can't leave out when I first built a mage tower...

Merlin was, at heart, a chatterbox. She bragged a great deal, and even when discussing one subject, she would jump from topic to topic until she was telling an entirely different story. Usually, it all ended with an account of her own experiences.

'What do they call this way of talking again?'

The sort of conversation that always ended with “Back in my day.”

Najin recalled what people called those who talked like that, then shook his head. Still, Merlin had helped him so much. It was terribly unfair to think of his benefactor that way...

-Back in my day...

Then again, perhaps not.

'Wow, really.'

Offering Merlin the occasional agreeable response, Najin kept walking. Before he knew it, the well-maintained streets had brought him to his destination: a clothing shop with garments on display. Dieta, who had been sitting out front, waved to him.

“Am I a little late?”

“No. You're right on time.”

Dieta took his wrist and tugged him along.

“Let's go inside.”

2.

“I've made a reservation at a restaurant, but it has a dress code. So let's get you a nice outfit before we go.”

“An outfit?”

“Yes. You don't have any clothes besides those, do you? Let's take this opportunity to get you something. You'll be attending formal occasions quite often from now on.”

Quite often from now on?

While Najin tilted his head, Dieta called over an employee making the rounds of the shop. After a brief conversation, she placed a few platinum coins in the employee's hand, and the employee promptly darted off.

A short while later, Najin was shown to a private VIP room, where he began changing into the armful of clothes the employee had brought. The outfit resembled what he had worn to the ball, though it differed in small details.

'Does this go over my shoulders?'

With the employee's help, Najin somehow finished changing and stepped out of the dressing room. Dieta, who had been waiting outside, parted her lips slightly at the sight of him. After a brief silence, she spoke.

“Tell me the truth. You really are a noble family's illegitimate son, aren't you?”

“I already told you I'm not.”

“I'm joking. You really do have such good proportions that anything looks good on you.”

Dieta approached and straightened his tie and clothing. It was normally the employee's job, but she had secretly instructed them to leave that part to her.

“...”

Looking down would have given Najin a view of the top of her head, so he lifted his chin for no particular reason and looked straight ahead. Once she had finished adjusting his clothes, Dieta pointed to a chair.

“Would you sit over there?”

“Of course.”

When Najin sat down, Dieta undid the old tie holding his hair back. Then she tied it again with a ring engraved with the Dieta Trading Company's emblem.

“There. All done.”

Dieta gave his shoulders a satisfied pat and asked him to wait a moment before entering the dressing room. When she emerged a little later, she looked quite different.

Her loose hair had been neatly gathered into a single ponytail, and her trading company uniform had been replaced with a dress.

Her hair was tied back the same way as Najin's, and her shawl matched the one covering his shoulders. As though asking him to notice, Dieta turned once in place and smiled at him.

“Does it suit me?”

“It suits you very well.”

She smiled in satisfaction.

Dieta offered him her hand, and Najin escorted her with a gesture that had grown familiar by now.

“Haven't you gotten a little too good at this?”

“It seems I have, somehow.”

“But you know this is how you escort your employer, not your partner, right? With a partner, you do this.”

Dieta linked her arm through Najin's. Pressed close to his side, she lowered her head a little. The ears showing between the falling strands of her light brown hair were bright red.

“Let's get going.”

3.

A date. Matching outfits. Linked arms.

The words circling through Dieta's mind sent heat rushing into her face. She took a deep breath, dousing her persistently pounding heart with cold water. Honestly, she would never make any progress at this rate.

Dieta stole a glance up at Najin.

As they walked arm in arm, he looked calm, unlike her. She was a little displeased by that. She had thought pressing this close would fluster him at least a little.

'Still...'

Najin's expression was soft and relaxed.

Seeing this face he showed only to her, never to anyone else, Dieta smiled faintly. Still, it wasn't as though she had made no progress at all.

She had learned that Najin was awkward with relationships, heard about his background, and opened her heart to him, becoming his friend.

He might not seem interested in romance between a man and a woman right now... but humans were creatures of desire who craved more as they grew accustomed to what they had. Once he grew used to their friendship, wouldn't he start longing for the next step?

'I'll build it up slowly.'

She had no rivals, and even if one appeared someday, she would still hold the title of his first friend. Dieta had no intention of surrendering that advantage.

'A monopoly.'

The eyes of the Snake That Swallows Gold gleamed with desire. Slowly, steadily, but surely. Just as Dieta began refining her plans in her head—

“Dieta.”

“Hic!”

A single whisper from Najin beside her ear wiped her mind completely blank. She reflexively tried to pull away from him, but their linked arms prevented even that.

“Dieta?”

“Y-yes. What is it?”

“You weren't answering when I called.”

Najin pointed to a building. They had already arrived at the restaurant. Dieta nodded, fiddling with her burning ear.

She really had to steel herself.

Her opponent was a skilled swordsman who attacked without warning and without even realizing it. And now that they had become “friends,” his attacks had grown even sharper. He would suddenly smile, or look so at ease, or whisper “Dieta” in that relaxed voice...

'Wait, isn't this enough already?'

Dieta caught her breath with a gasp.

For a moment, she had almost been satisfied. She slapped her cheek to bring herself to her senses. Wasn't her goal higher than this? She wasn't a woman so devoid of desire that she would settle for mere friendship.

'I have to stay sharp.'

She would smoothly deflect his attacks and launch counterattacks that would stir his heart. With that resolve, Dieta entered the restaurant in the mindset of someone heading onto a battlefield.

* * *

“... Huh?”

When she came to her senses, the meal was already over, and desserts and teacups were being placed on the table. Dieta blinked blankly.

She was sure she had steeled herself before entering the restaurant, but from midway through, all she remembered was enjoying herself. Delighted by Najin's encouraging responses, she had chattered on and on... and then what had happened?

This wasn't quite what she had had in mind...?

While Dieta grappled with her confusion, Najin took a sip of tea and spoke.

“Thanks to you, I had a wonderful day.”

“What?”

“I got to experience new things and try all this food. I feel a little less tired now, thanks to you.”

Najin was saying exactly what he felt.

Thanks to Dieta, he had been able to lower his guard a little and spend at least this one day resting comfortably. His mind, which had felt shrouded in fog, had cleared somewhat too.

“Thank you, Dieta.”

“... Mm, um.”

Dieta worked her lips for a moment, then let out a long breath. Once she had exhaled, she smiled wryly.

“This wasn't quite what I had in mind...”

“Wasn't it?”

“Still, I can't deny that I enjoyed myself too.”

She had forgotten her plans and happily chatted away, laughing at the stories Najin told her. Not to mention how delicious their meal had been.

Simply talking had been enjoyable, and sharing a meal had left her content.

She acted as though she had mastered human relationships, but in truth, Dieta had never had a friend either. She acknowledged that the simple act of talking comfortably with a friend brought considerable fulfillment.

“Having a friend is nice.”

“I agree.”

Dieta and Najin looked at each other and smiled.

“Now that we've had a good rest...”

Dieta set down the teacup she had been sipping from.

“Shall we talk business? By which I mean ways to prepare for your attackers.”

4.

High Priest Orlan reviewed the list.

Four Sword Seekers.

One Fifth Circle mage.

Fifteen Sword Experts.

Hounds Orlan could command personally, without drawing on the order's authority. It was an excessive force for any one individual to possess. Invoking the order's name would allow him to mobilize even more people, but...

'That would defeat the purpose.'

He could not be certain of having complete control over the order's forces, and there were too many variables. By contrast, those on this list would roll on the ground and lick muddy water at a mere gesture from Orlan. He held weaknesses over them that were sufficient to ensure it.

Orlan sent a signal to every one of them.

It was now certain that the man called “Ivan,” who operated in the adventurers' city, was the usurper of Excalibur who had escaped that day. The incident with Kaufman had confirmed it. There was no need to weigh any further considerations.

Nor was there any need to conserve manpower.

The right course was to deploy every hound at his disposal at once and finish the matter decisively. It was an excessive force to capture a single swordsman who had yet to reach the realm of Sword Seeker, but surely too much was better than too little.

'Corner him.'

Orlan tapped the table.

'If I make him draw Excalibur...'

That would end it all.

Excalibur. The Sword of Stars.

The moment the boy revealed the light he should never have possessed, he would be ruined. Orlan had laid a net for precisely that purpose. Reviewing the several moves he had prepared, Orlan smiled.

He would be able to ease his goddess's worries.

For that, Orlan was grateful.