Throw down a glove and declare your name and affiliation.

No one was ignorant of what that act meant. It was a declaration of an honorable duel: If I bleed today, it shall be only by your spears and swords, and the blood upon my blade shall likewise belong only to you.

Such was the meaning carried by that declaration—an honorable declaration handed down since ancient times.

The moment Najin spoke it, the attackers narrowed their eyes. Some frowned, others sighed... and Klaus, once a knight of the kingdom, smiled bitterly.

'An honorable duel.'

The declaration could not have been more out of place. Yet that very incongruity lent it weight. Klaus let out a long breath.

They were utterly cowardly assailants.

That was an undeniable truth. Tailing, eavesdropping, traps, covert operations, ambushes... They had freely resorted to all manner of dishonorable methods. And rather than face their target one on one, they had set out to overwhelm a single man with numbers. There could be no honor in such an attack.

'For any knight...'

It was a deed to consider dishonorable, and therefore a deed to be ashamed of. But people sometimes found themselves with goals they had to accomplish even at the cost of dishonor and shame.

That was true of everyone gathered here.

Some had hostages held against them. Some had their own lives held as collateral. Others stood here because their lord's honor, or their comrades' honor, was at stake. They had things they had to protect, even if it meant sinking to the level of filthy hounds and assassins.

Of course, those were merely their own circumstances. They had no right to expect that young man to understand. As they were now, they were nothing more than utterly cowardly assailants.

And yet.

That young man had declared this would be an honorable duel. Even if the declaration served only to steel his own resolve, a knight had a duty to answer it.

THUD!

Klaus drove his lance into the ground. Striking his chest with his fist, right over his heart, he cried out in a booming voice.

"I am Klaus Aten!"

If he bore the title of knight—if he had ever been a knight, however briefly—then he had a duty to answer the young man's declaration.

"Klaus Aten, commander of the Blue Wing Cavalry, the fifth wing of the Kingdom of Prolea."

His war was over. His comrades had been cast into the mud, branded heretics in the name of a god, and stripped of their honor.

"Najin, squire to Ivan, knight of Atanga!"

But the journey of the Blue Wing Cavalry must not end that way. He would gladly discard his own honor to reclaim theirs. He was more than prepared to cast himself into the mire.

"I accept your duel."

Klaus raised his lance and pointed it at Najin. Even if this battle held no honor, each of them had something to protect. That was reason enough to cross blades.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Following Klaus's lead, those who had once been knights, those who had once held honor in their hearts, declared their affiliations and identities. Shouting their declarations, they charged at Najin.

And Najin merely settled into his stance as he watched them come. In the forest, where the sun had set and a thin darkness had settled, sword aura, aura, and mana flashed.

2.

A Sword Master had once said that Sword Seekers were those who had surpassed the bounds of humanity but failed to attain transcendence. From the perspective of a Sword Master who had achieved it, those words were a sneer...

But put another way, they also meant that Sword Seekers were formidable beings who had already far surpassed human limits and defied common sense. The proof was unfolding before Najin's eyes.

BOOM!

The ground shook with a sound like an exploding bomb. But no bomb had gone off. Klaus Aten had kicked off the ground. With every step he took forward, the earth trembled and a thunderous report rang out.

A cavalry commander. A cavalryman who needed no horse. Klaus Aten, the Knight of Swiftness.

The leg strength of the knight known by that name defied imagination. From the moment Klaus kicked off the ground, he was a cavalryman mounted on a horse, a chariot sweeping across the battlefield.

"...!"

Najin's eyes widened, and he hurled himself aside. Klaus's speed was incomparable to when he had attacked the carriage. Rather than counter, Najin chose to evade...

THUD! CRACK! BOOOOM!

It was the right choice. The moment Klaus swept past him, the swirling wind pressure forced Najin to roll across the ground. A moment later, the sounds of towering trees breaking, snapping, and crashing down filled the air.

Rolling to his feet, Najin saw the great trees smashed along Klaus's path. He saw the footprints stamped into the earth.

Then another heavy thud rang out in the distance. Klaus had turned and was charging again.

CLAAANG!

But Klaus was not Najin's only enemy.

The sword Najin swung on reflex collided with Jerold's. Jerold Oton—a demon hunter and Sword Seeker who wielded a greatsword. At the instant their blades met, Najin felt as though his knees were buckling.

CLANG! SCRRREEECH!

Twisting his blade, Najin slipped free of Jerold's pressure. The moment the opposing blade vanished, Jerold's sword whipped through empty air like a stretched rubber band suddenly released.

CRACK!

Though the blade had not touched it, the trunk of a great tree several paces away split apart. With its trunk shattered, the tree slowly toppled. The instant it hit the ground, the earth shook and dust billowed upward.

But a mere tremor could not halt a Sword Seeker. Jerold stepped forward, sweeping the dust aside, while Klaus came charging through, smashing the fallen tree to pieces.

And Najin—the one who had chosen this stage himself—exhaled.

As he opened his eyes with that breath, they grew sharply bloodshot. His heart beat faster than usual. Thud, thud, thud. The blood flowing throughout his body accelerated...

KEEEEEEN!

Najin's sword aura surged. Around its fiercely rising light, clusters of stars sparkled with little ticks and crackles. The sword aura, carrying fragments of his mental image, shone in the dark forest.

Physical enhancement pushed beyond its limits. A shining sword bearing fragments of his mental image.

Unleashing his full strength from the outset, Najin kicked lightly off the ground. His first step was gentle, but from the second onward, his steps were utterly savage. He sprinted across earth shaken by trees collapsing one after another.

Towering trees. Splinters of shattered wood. Branches stretching in every direction.

For Najin, it was an ideal environment. If there was any area in which he could outstrip the Sword Seekers, it was terrain like this—a place with countless factors to calculate, where he could make full use of unorthodox movements.

Making use of such terrain had long been Najin's specialty. Trailing pure white light, he leaped again and again. Jerold frowned, lifted a foot, and stamped it down.

THUD!

The ground resounded.

Immediately, fierce sword aura surged over Jerold's blade. His greatsword had cut down countless demons. Its thick blade swung, scattering afterimages—a blindingly fast strike born of strength beyond human limits.

BOOOOOOM!

The surrounding trees split apart. The tree Najin stood upon collapsed, and he lost his balance and fell. Some were ready to seize that opening.

Seven Experts rushed at Najin.

Having seen his movements, they had already reached their conclusion. They could not kill Najin themselves. In that case, they would hold him up, deprive him of his mobility, and buy time. That was the best they could do.

Once they had decided, all that remained was to act. They thrust their swords at Najin and rushed in to pin him down. If they could buy even one second, the lance of Klaus, charging at terrifying speed, would pierce him.

So they thought. Klaus and Jerold had reached the same conclusion.

But there was something they had overlooked.

"..."

As he fell, Najin twisted in midair—as if he had never lost his balance in the first place. Recovering his balance in the air, he swung his sword the instant he landed. Landing and swinging were one seamless motion.

SHING.

The Experts' swords were severed, along with the sword aura wrapped around their blades. Swords cut apart. An encirclement shattered, its gaps exposed.

Immediately, Najin moved, scattering afterimages. His movements were so fast that the Experts could not even perceive them.

"Urgh!"

"Gah!"

By the time they came to their senses, they had been slashed, kicked, and flung away, slammed into tree trunks and the ground. With bones broken or limbs severed, they could no longer fight.

All of that took one second.

Having removed the Experts from the battlefield, Najin exhaled briefly and lowered his stance. At the same time, he sprinted toward Klaus as Klaus charged him.

A full-speed sprint straight at a charging cavalryman.

It was madness. He would be trampled. Watching Najin run straight at him, Klaus burst into laughter. Come at me, then. Try to stop my lance. As if shouting those words, Klaus accelerated further.

THUD!

Aura wrapped around the lance's pointed blade—the equivalent of sword aura for a swordsman. It took the shape of a massive awl. The scene within Klaus's mental image was the valiant charge of cavalrymen he had witnessed as a child.

It was as though he himself had become a lance.

The aura bearing Klaus's mental image rippled. As if answering it, Najin kicked off the ground as well. The instant he reached top speed, he stamped a foot down and lowered his stance. He swung his sword at Klaus, carrying all that acceleration into the blow.

CLANG! SCRRREEEECH!

Sparks flew as lance blade and sword collided.

Aura and sword aura tore at one another. Najin's planted foot plowed up heaps of earth as he was driven backward. Even as he continued to slide, he gritted his teeth and twisted his sword.

Lance point and sword edge slipped out of alignment. The weapons crossed in a shower of sparks.

A wet bursting sound rang out. As Najin and Klaus passed one another, Klaus's lance grazed Najin's side. That mere graze tore a hole in his flesh and sent blood spurting out.

But Najin was not the only one bleeding.

After sweeping past Najin, Klaus skidded around with a scraping rush. As he turned, he clutched his side and burst into laughter.

"Ha!"

The instant their weapons crossed, Najin had aimed for Klaus's lance hand. Had Klaus not shifted his lance's trajectory, he would have lost half his hand, thumb and all. Klaus marveled at the strategy: sacrifice his own side to take his opponent's hand.

He clamped his hand over the deep wound in his side. Crushing the flesh together to seal it, he glared at Najin.

Their exchange during the attack on the carriage. The movements Najin had just displayed.

Klaus Aten raised his assessment of Najin a notch. The young man before him was not an Expert approaching Sword Seeker. Apart from sword aura, he was a Sword Seeker's equal in every respect.

He was not merely close. He was already a Sword Seeker-caliber fighter.

Klaus was not alone in that impression. Jerold felt exactly the same. The seven Experts had already been removed from the battlefield, leaving only the two of them.

"Jerold."

"I know."

Klaus and Jerold exchanged a look.

Both men knew instinctively. The young man had not challenged them recklessly. He stood there because he genuinely believed he could defeat two Sword Seekers.

Then they would have to answer him.

A sacred duel had even been declared. There was no reason to hold anything back. Klaus twisted the hand gripping his lance. With a creak and a clack, the roughly three-meter weapon shortened to half its length.

This was no longer the stance of a cavalryman sweeping across a battlefield, but one meant to bring down the single enemy before him.

Feeling the atmosphere change in an instant, Najin exhaled. Something was almost within his grasp. A little farther—just one more step—and he could seize it. With that thought, he kept Klaus and Jerold in his sight.

Whether this duel would prove the arrogance of the defeated or the confidence of the victor depended on his sword.

As always, a swordsman was one who proved himself with his blade. The sword aura rising over Najin's sword was sharper than ever.

3.

At some point, Basaus Malek had begun sweating coldly as he wielded his twin swords. Every time their blades clashed, blood burst from his body.

'I knew.'

He gritted his teeth and swung.

'I know Roselin Ascalo is powerful. I knew that, but...'

The blood that spurted out soaked the ground. His clothes were already stained red. Driven far backward, Basaus gulped ragged breaths.

He had never imagined she would be this powerful.

As Roselin stepped toward the retreating Basaus, arrows and magic rained down on her. Each attack was immensely powerful, but...

She spun the daggers in her hands once, then struck them together with a clang, neutralizing them all. An echo rang out the instant the blades met. Riding that echo, her amplified sword aura literally ground the projectiles to pieces.

A Sword Seeker-caliber archer and a mage who had reached the Fifth Circle.

Even with support from both, keeping Roselin pinned down was the best he could manage. Basaus ground his teeth. There were three steps one had to climb to become a Sword Master. She had climbed just one of them, Sprouting. Could that alone create such an enormous gulf?

"I had my hopes up when I heard you were a Sword Seeker who used twin swords."

Roselin approached Basaus at her leisure.

"This is a bit disappointing. Got anything else?"

"Ha..."

Basaus sneered at her provocation.

"This is hardly the time to take things so lightly, Roselin."

"What?"

"My objective was to hold you here from the start. All I need to do is stall, and I'll have accomplished it."

Their victory conditions were different to begin with.

"If you can't join him, that young man dies. He'll die for certain. Perhaps it's already over."

"..."

"You're not the one who can afford to relax. Rather—"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Roselin tilted her head, as though she truly could not understand.

"Why would I go there? Join him? Looks like you've got something seriously wrong..."

Roselin Ascalo chuckled.

"My job is to keep you lot tied up, not protect that greenhorn. Though I'm thinking of lopping your heads off while I'm at it."

That was all there was to it. She shrugged as she spoke.

"He probably doesn't need my help anyway."

"What? What do you..."

Before this operation began, Roselin had met Najin once more. And the Najin she had seen then...

'He was already complete.'

One step. Truly, just one step.

The chrysalis enclosing Najin was already cracked. Only one step remained before he broke through it and emerged.

"That greenhorn, you know."

Roselin smiled.

"Even before becoming a Sword Seeker, he was already a match for one in absolutely everything except sword aura."

He was a monstrous greenhorn.

Despite being a Sword Expert, he was not content merely to match Sword Seekers—he sought to beat them. If a greenhorn like that reached the realm of Sword Seeker...

"One wrong move and it's lights out. Not for that greenhorn. For you lot. You."

He would already be something entirely different from a Sword Seeker who could be explained by ordinary standards.

Of that, Roselin Ascalo was certain.