“Confirmed. He's boarded the carriage.”

“He's moving. Pursue him.”

Around the time the sunset began to color the sky, the target walked out from the center of the city and boarded a carriage. The attackers watched him climb aboard and confirmed that the carriage was heading in the direction their information had indicated.

There was no change to the plan. Scattered throughout the city, the attackers began moving one by one. Their movements were exceedingly discreet.

It was not merely because they had reached the ranks of Sword Seeker or Sword Expert. The attackers had circumstances of their own. Reasons they could not help being desperate. They had to make this operation succeed, even at the cost of their lives. Some sought to save a lover, others to keep a child alive, and still others to preserve their personal honor.

Their desperation made them thorough.

Fifteen Sword Experts, four Sword Seekers, and one Fifth Circle mage. Twenty people in all. Naturally, assembling all at once would expose them. So they maintained a fixed distance from one another as they moved out of the city.

They blended naturally into the crowds and concealed themselves among lines of carriages. So discreet were their movements that no one realized they shared a purpose and a destination.

This was the day of the decisive battle.

A pursuit team following the carriage. A waiting team stationed along its route. And an assault team centered around the mage, ready to block its path... Divided into several groups, the hunters held their breath, their keen daggers concealed.

There was nothing difficult about it.

They had poured so much care into devising such an intricate operation. There could be no unforeseen factors.

2.

The sunset faded, and twilight arrived.

A faint vibration spread along Ahmeti Road. The carriage had come. Its wheels rumbled roughly, and the horses' hooves struck the earth. Listening to those sounds, the attackers steadied their breathing.

Hidden in shadows, bushes, dense stands of trees, and uneven terrain, they waited for their moment.

Then the moment came. The carriage appeared. A closer look revealed the pursuit team following some distance behind it. The instant the waiting team sent its signal, the assault team blocked the carriage's path.

The Fifth Circle mage.

Cirkel Cravelin.

The instant she struck the ground with her staff, five rings rose behind her. Fifth Circle mages were often classified as siege weapons, for that was the level at which they could truly wield large-scale annihilation magic.

And at this moment, Cirkel had already finished her incantation. The spell she had held in readiness loaded into the tip of her staff as her circles grated violently against one another. A spell capable of erasing a single carriage without a trace.

WHOOSH!

Blazing flames flashed.

But they had not staked everything on a single spell. Klaus Aten, commander of the pursuit team following at a distance, kicked off the ground and accelerated in an instant.

BOOM!

The moment he pushed off, a thunderous report rang out as though a cannonball had been fired. Klaus had once commanded a cavalry unit, and his legs were powerful enough to execute a lance charge without a warhorse.

He swung his arm, unfolding his weapon into a three-meter lance.

WHOOOOSH!

From behind came a lance slicing through the wind. From the front, a Fifth Circle mage's large-scale annihilation spell. From the flanks, the assault team sprang out, drawing forth sword aura. There was nowhere to flee.

First, the enormous fireball would burn the carriage away without a trace. Even if the target escaped it, he would be impaled by the lance pursuing him from behind and torn apart by the swordsmen charging from the sides with their sword aura unleashed.

They were certain of victory.

They declared with confidence that their plan contained no unforeseen factors.

The sound of hooves, the vibrations of the carriage wheels, the roar of the flames burning at the mage's staff, their judgment clouded by certainty that the plan had succeeded exactly as intended. All those factors combined...

They failed to notice.

They failed to notice that someone had hidden here before they arrived to prepare their ambush. That she had drawn two daggers from the small of her back and kicked off the ground.

Because they did not notice, they could not prepare.

Roselin Ascalo emerged behind the attackers and drove off the ground. An instant burst of acceleration. With every step, her black ponytail streamed in the wind.

... Roselin Ascalo was a mercenary.

A mercenary among mercenaries, she had experienced countless battlefields and knew better than anyone whom to target first in this situation. The mage. In any battle, the mage was the first enemy asset to eliminate.

“...!”

The first to notice her approach was Jerold, standing beside Cirkel. Greatsword in hand, he turned with his eyes wide. Grabbing Cirkel by the back of the neck, he pulled her aside and exchanged places with her.

It was the right decision.

As Jerold swung his sword while switching positions, Roselin reached him and swung her twin blades. Five Sword Experts stood beside them, but not one could follow their movements.

CLAAAAANG!

Roselin's twin blades collided with Jerold's greatsword. An unusually loud clang rang out. Only after it sounded did the Experts catch sight of Roselin, who had swept past them, and widen their eyes.

But by then it was late. Far too late.

Only Jerold understood what was happening. His eyes widened. That unusually loud noise. The twin blades in Roselin's hands. The instant those blades began to resonate, he gritted his teeth and assumed a defensive stance, sheltering his body behind his greatsword.

And Echo rang out.

The echo produced by Echo reverberated across the battlefield.

Masterpiece No. 21, Echo. The Mystery within it was Resonance. Carried on that echo, Roselin's sword aura swept across the battlefield.

KEEEEEEN!

The five Experts standing beside her were sliced into dozens of pieces. Struck directly by the echo, Jerold's greatsword shook violently. A red barrier rose around Cirkel, who sheltered behind him. The reverberating echo clawed at her barrier again and again.

Until even the flames she had prepared at the tip of her staff had to be used for defense.

In an instant, the way ahead opened. As though it had been waiting for that moment, the carriage carrying Najin accelerated, and its rear wall shattered.

CRACK!

Najin emerged through the shattered wall. Having bound himself securely to the carriage with a rope, he adjusted his grip on his sword atop the moving vehicle. His eyes fixed on Klaus, the lance-wielding knight charging toward him from behind.

Najin's eyes moved rapidly.

Bloodshot, they calculated Klaus's speed, the distance between them, and the optimal moment. He had his answer. All that remained was to act. Trailing fiercely surging sword aura, Najin kicked off the carriage and leaped.

TAP.

Klaus's charge followed a straight line, his attack aimed directly ahead. As was generally true of a lance charge, of a cavalry charge, abruptly changing direction midway was exceedingly difficult.

And so Najin swung his sword down at the crown of Klaus's head from above. A situation Klaus had not anticipated. A weakness targeted at precisely the right moment. Yet even then, Klaus reacted.

For he was a warrior of Sword Seeker caliber.

With truly superhuman reflexes, he stamped down on the ground. He redirected his forward-pointing lance and swung it at Najin. Roughly three meters long, the lance tore through the air toward him.

And Najin swung his sword at it with all his strength, as though this was exactly what he had been waiting for. His sword aura collided with the aura wrapped around Klaus's lance, and the two repelled one another. Naturally, it was the airborne Najin who was driven back.

The force of the collision sent Najin's body flying through the air.

At that instant, he twisted in midair and tugged the rope tied around his abdomen. The rope connecting him to the carriage pulled taut at precisely the right moment, yanking him away.

His movements made it seem as though he had planned every part of this. That was how smoothly he disengaged.

“Hah.”

Watching it unfold, Klaus let out a disbelieving laugh. His role had been to ram the carriage from behind and destroy it. But now that plan had come to nothing.

All because of a single exchange.

The carriage was already racing away in the distance. Even if he kicked off the ground and resumed running now, he would be too late. The encirclement they had worked so hard to create was breaking open. Then what of the assault team, which should have worked with Klaus to smash the carriage and block its escape?

Under attack by Roselin Ascalo, they had no opportunity to do so. The magic they had painstakingly prepared had been spent defending against her assault.

'And the waiting team meant to attack from the flanks...'

With the carriage intact—and moving even faster—they, too, lost it. It swept past them and raced through the opening ahead. Then it left Ahmeti Road and headed in another direction.

Only then did Klaus realize.

And not just Klaus.

Everyone there realized it.

It was a trap. Their opponent had known about the ambush. Watching the carriage already receding into the distance, Klaus gritted his teeth.

“...”

Warriors of Sword Seeker caliber.

The commanders' gazes crossed. Then they all turned toward the same place. Roselin Ascalo stood there.

She had torn through the battlefield and opened the way ahead.

As though that had accomplished her primary objective, Roselin had put some distance between them and was loosening up, her joints cracking. Feeling their gazes converge on her, she grinned.

“What are you looking at?”

She spun her daggers and adjusted her grip.

As though inviting them to attack whenever they pleased.

Yet the attackers were reluctant to make the first move. They knew it, too.

Roselin Ascalo was formidable. Even among Sword Seekers, she was undeniably powerful. No one here could face her alone.

She had climbed one of the three steps leading to Sword Master and even possessed a Masterpiece. Of course, they could win if several of them attacked together, but that would take far too much time.

'What if this drags on?'

Klaus looked toward the carriage speeding away in the distance. It had changed direction. Leaving the road, it was heading somewhere entirely different from its supposed destination. They had lost the carriage. The ambush had failed.

Where was that carriage going?

What were they after?

Reinforcements? Or, failing that, to report this incident?

Was Roselin even their only reinforcement?

There was no way to know. Anything was possible.

He could not discern their opponent's objective. If they let the carriage escape, there was no telling how the situation would develop. Now that the ambush had been exposed, withdrawing was no longer an option.

'What should we do?'

Thoroughly manipulated intelligence. Limited options. A time limit. Restrictions of every kind closed in on them. Their limited, manipulated information made them anxious. The moment Klaus realized they had been dancing entirely in the enemy's palm, he ground his teeth.

They had to choose.

A quick decision was needed.

“Klaus.”

Then someone spoke.

“Pursue him with Jerold. We'll handle things here.”

The speaker was a man holding twin swords.

Basaus Malek. A Sword Seeker who had spent many years serving as a soldier on the battlefield. He stepped toward Roselin, speaking as he went.

“We'll kill that woman and join you. If we take too long, come join us.”

Klaus nodded.

Exchanging a look, Jerold and Klaus kicked off the ground and ran. They were the two most mobile people present, so no one objected to Basaus's decision.

Roselin shrugged and let the two men pursue the carriage. Then she grinned at the soldier standing in her way.

“You're going to kill me?”

“There's no reason I can't.”

Basaus Malek adjusted his grip on his twin swords. Rough sword aura rose from both blades. Whistling, Roselin Ascalo spun her Masterpiece, Echo. Sword aura resembling a wild beast's teeth surged upward.

Basaus Malek with his twin swords.

Tyler Berkaniman with his greatbow.

Cirkel Cravelin with her circles raised.

Three fighters of Sword Seeker caliber bared their fangs at Roselin. Even under their stares, she merely steadied her breathing at her leisure.

“What brings the commander of a renowned mercenary company to a place like this?”

Roselin laughed at Basaus's sneer.

“Do you really need to ask? There's only one thing that gets a mercenary moving. Money.”

Freedom over honor.

Gold coins over freedom.

Pleasure over gold coins.

Those were the values Roselin Ascalo believed in. She still owed Dieta a debt, and Dieta had offered her a commission for a considerable sum. An opportunity to erase her debt while getting paid. She had no reason to refuse.

Besides, she was curious.

About this situation itself, and about the predicament that greenhorn called Ivan had found himself in. Above all, it resembled something she had experienced in the past. Remembering the days when those damned inquisitors had hunted her, Roselin narrowed her eyes.

“What are you waiting for, you little shits?”

The corners of her mouth curled upward.

“Aren't you going to attack?”

Ominous red eyes.

Unlike other red eyes, hers swirled menacingly, gleaming like a beast's.

3.

Najin watched the people pursuing the carriage.

Jerold Oton, the demon hunter wielding a greatsword.

Klaus Aten, the knight wielding a three-meter lance.

And the seven Experts following them.

As promised, Roselin had taken on two Sword Seekers. Najin was grateful for that. He still had to face multiple Sword Seekers... but this was not a battle without a chance of victory.

Above all, this was a wall he had to overcome.

By now, the carriage had entered the forest. The location they had chosen beforehand. A stage that favored Najin. The carriage pressed into the woods, where darkness was settling after sundown. The distance between it and the pursuers was shrinking by the moment.

Inside the rattling carriage, Najin steadied his breathing.

Then he slowly rose. He planted his foot firmly on the ledge left by the carriage wall he had broken earlier. Then he cut the rope connecting him to the carriage with his blade.

They were far enough from Roselin now.

It was time for him to risk his life, too.

Najin jumped from the carriage. Leaving him behind, it raced away into the distance. The pursuers frowned at his sudden leap. Were there people lying in ambush here? They briefly halted and surveyed their surroundings warily.

Najin let his sword hang at his side.

In the darkened forest, pure white sword aura extended from his blade. Only after a little time had passed did the attackers realize no one was lying in ambush. Najin was alone here.

He pointed his sword, its aura surging, toward them as though declaring that he would face them all by himself.

The attackers let out incredulous laughs at the sight. He was making that choice here? He intended to face two Sword Seekers and seven Experts alone when he had not even reached the Sword Seeker realm?

It was madness.

And Najin was not unaware of that.

Yet this was the path he had chosen. Najin removed a glove and threw it to the ground, as though issuing a challenge to a duel. The knights among the attackers narrowed their eyes.

“Najin.”

He spoke his own name.

“I'm the squire of Ivan, a knight of Atanga.”

He declared the only affiliation he possessed for now.

The minimum conditions for a duel had been met. Najin adjusted his grip on his sword. A duel was meaningless in a situation like this, but to Najin it was a restriction he imposed on himself, and an oath.

A knight does not flee a duel.

I will defeat every one of you here.

An oath to himself. From the moment he spoke Ivan's name, it became something Najin absolutely had to uphold.