An unfamiliar man, whose very humanity was questionable.

No, was this even a man? Kyle stared at his visitor, a host of questions running through his mind.

Scarlet hair and golden eyes. They were the founder's colors, the symbols of House Alastor, but none of the relatives Kyle had seen in the Sword Tower had a face like this visitor's.

Could this be one of his uncles, who had spent years away from the tower searching for a cure for their mother? Roel or Seros? Impossible. Those two were in their twenties at most. Neither could possibly radiate the mystique of the visitor before him.

'Yes, mystique.'

Kyle's eyes gleamed. There was something indescribably mysterious about this visitor, this being before him. Something far more fundamental than words like presence or aura could convey. It was like looking at an entirely different species wearing a human skin...

'When have I felt this before?'

Strangely, the sensation was not unfamiliar. He had felt it at some point in the past. Remembering when was not particularly difficult.

'Ruin Alastor.'

The man who had ended the Dark Age five hundred years ago—and ended the life of Raikal, the Sword Demon, as well. The man who had wielded the most beautiful, perfect "sword" in Kyle's memory had given off a feeling much like this being's.

Now that he thought about it, even the being's red hair and golden eyes felt familiar. Those colors, the symbols of House Alastor, were familiar enough that Kyle need only look in a mirror to see them. But this being's hair and eyes were very, very much like Ruin's.

"Who are you, more to the point?"

The being looking down at Kyle with furrowed brows spoke. The voice was as androgynous as the appearance that made it difficult to tell man from woman. The being twitched a finger, and Kyle's seated body floated into the air. For now, he offered no resistance, letting the force draw him along.

He stopped at a height that allowed the being to look at him comfortably with only a slight lowering of the eyes, rather than having to bend down.

"I know you are no ordinary human. You see, sense, and converse with not only Fenris and Baal, but the goblins of the Sword Garden as well."

"..."

"I also know you were born laden with a bizarre assortment of talents. I know the heavens sometimes bestow absurd favoritism without warning. But what in the world are you? With all that innate talent, why would you do something so utterly idiotic?"

"Aha."

Listening to the rebuke, Kyle had been quietly watching the space ripple behind the being. Now he spoke.

"You're the Sword Tower's goblin."

It was not merely the mysterious feeling that made it impossible to consider them the same species. The wavering scenery of the cultivation room resembled what he had seen when communing with the goblins of Fenris and Baal.

The difference was that Kyle had neither initiated nor wanted this communion. That, too, was a first.

"..."

The being narrowed his eyes in silence, while Kyle's shone with fascination.

Goblins were spirits born within objects that had long been cherished, worshipped, or steeped in intense emotion. Those objects did not have to be weapons like swords.

The Sword Tower was an artifact the Dragon King had personally made and given to Ruin Alastor five hundred years ago. The only difference between a magical tool and an artifact was who had made it, so the Sword Tower, a tool made by the Dragon King, was ultimately a tool as well.

It had the distinction of being the Dragon King's creation. Five hundred years of history. A symbol of House Alastor, a place where its history was recorded and its purebloods resided. And the tower from which its founder, Ruin Alastor, had ascended.

If even Fenris housed a goblin, there was no reason the Sword Tower should not. Heart pounding, Kyle waited for the being to nod in confirmation. Instead, after a long silence with his brows furrowed, he spat out a reply.

"Do not mistake me for a mere goblin."

"You're not?"

"Strictly speaking, one could say I am different."

"Then what are you?"

"I am the Fragment," the being said coldly.

"I was born in a manner similar to a goblin, but my fundamental standing is different."

"How exactly are you different?"

"Your manner of speech is insufferably impudent. I intervened personally to save your life, yet you cannot even offer your thanks?"

"Thank you."

Kyle bowed his head in thanks for the moment. In truth, he would not have been in danger even without the being—the Fragment—intervening. At that moment, Kyle had been in complete control of both himself and his mana.

Still, the Fragment's intervention had not hindered him. Nor had he acted with any intention of causing harm. Kyle could certainly spare him a word of thanks.

"You listen to reason surprisingly well. Seeing you do something so utterly idiotic, I expected you to be obstinate."

"What exactly was so idiotic about it?"

"Are you asking because you genuinely do not know? What you just did—no, everything you have done in this tower over the past year has been utterly idiotic," the Fragment said.

"You have been pursuing bizarre training simply because you were born with a bizarre spiritual root, have you not? Trying to make full use of every vessel you possess is excessive greed. What you are attempting is impossible for a human."

"Has anyone besides me ever been born with a spiritual root like this?"

The question made the Fragment frown.

"Besides you? Of course not. It has only been some three hundred years since the laws of heaven were altered to allow every member of your human race to awaken a spiritual root in the first place..."

"Then why do you say it's impossible?" Kyle asked with a grin.

"If no one besides me has ever awakened a spiritual root like this, how can you be certain what I'm doing is absolutely impossible?"

"That is..."

The Fragment could not answer immediately. He merely frowned. He had watched this monstrous human child long enough to know the boy was too shrewd to believe he was only eleven, but he had never imagined being left speechless like this.

"The absence of precedent does not disprove its absolute impossibility. The spiritual root you were born with is itself so preposterous that no human could fully control it. You must humbly acknowledge that and embrace only what you can handle."

"I can handle it."

"I thought you listened to reason, but you are obstinate and foolish. How was such an arrogant wretch granted so much talent?"

The Fragment snorted and shook his head.

"How much progress have you made over this past year, anyway? Did you not push yourself today because your lack of progress left you impatient and frustrated? Had I not intervened..."

"Since you've already intervened, why not go all the way and help me properly?"

Kyle recalled the Fragment's touch. His mana had been extraordinarily delicate, stable, and natural. The torrents raging through Kyle's circuits had become as still as water in a dish the instant his power touched them.

"As you said, I've struggled a lot on my own this past year. I've tried all kinds of things, and it has been frustrating making so little progress."

"Then have the sense to give up..."

"If I were going to give up, I wouldn't have started. Haven't you been watching me all this time because you're interested in me? Didn't you intervene because you didn't want to see anything happen to me?"

It was an outrageously bold question. Rather than answer immediately, the Fragment stared at Kyle in silence, then abruptly reached out and seized both his cheeks.

"Who are you?"

The Fragment's eyes rippled. Golden eyes that were the very image of Ruin Alastor's. Even with his face pressed close, Kyle saw no reflection of himself in them. That brilliant gold deepened until merely meeting his gaze felt as though it might draw Kyle's soul inside.

"Nothing in my history allows me to understand you. I cannot believe you are truly an eleven-year-old human child. Then who are you? Has Ruin, who ascended, finally returned to earth, unable to abandon his lingering attachments?"

"..."

"If not him, is the obsession of my original self finally seeking to defy fate? That strikes me as more plausible. Ruin had no talent for anything but swordsmanship."

Murmuring quietly, the Fragment leaned closer still.

"If not that, either... is the Demon King attempting to toy with fate? Baal did show an interest in you, so I suppose it is possible. But all of it is futile. Fate is fate precisely because it has already been determined. And if not that, then ultimately the Out—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

The ascended Ruin, the Dragon King, the Demon King. These were exceedingly grand figures, but Kyle thirsted for the completion of his Primordial Chaos Circulation Method far more than their private affairs.

"If you don't want to help, leave me alone. And you're being awfully rude. Why are you trying to see someone else in a perfectly normal person?"

I am actually Raikal, the Sword Demon whom Ruin killed five hundred years ago. Kyle almost said it, then stopped. Instinct told him that mentioning reincarnation to someone rambling about fate might lead to no end of trouble.

"You have no intention of abandoning that idiotic approach?"

"I want to pursue it even more now. I think I realized something when you helped me earlier."

"Even if it kills you?"

"Then that would be a shame."

At the answer, delivered without the slightest hesitation, the Fragment fell silent for a moment. Then he released Kyle's cheeks and circled the rippling realm of consciousness several times, pondering something.

"Let us do this."

After circling the realm of consciousness several times, the Fragment spoke.

"I will help you complete this circulation method you are so obsessed with. In return, you will do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Help me find someone. Or something. I will tell you what it is later, when I judge you ready."

"Can't you ask someone else?"

"No one living in this tower besides you has ever managed to commune with me. Nor am I desperate enough to go out of my way to ask someone else."

"Then why ask me?"

"A being like you cannot possibly have been born by pure chance. Something as absurd as you must have a reason for coming into existence."

The Fragment started to say more, then furrowed his brows again and shook his head.

"Do not try to learn too much. Well? What will you do?"

"I'll do it. Will you complete the method for me right now?"

"Does it look that easy?"

The Fragment shrugged incredulously.

"This is unprecedented. Frankly, even I am not certain. Furthermore, even if I complete the method, your body will not be able to adapt to it immediately. Therefore..."

The Fragment swept his arm, and the realm of consciousness split wide open, revealing a large passage.

"I will guide you to the Floor of Asceticism. There, you will pass the tower's trials and build a body capable of mastering the method we will complete."

"The Floor of Asceticism?"

Kyle's eyes widened. Occupying the Sword Tower's sixth through ninth floors, it was a special space that even purebloods could not enter freely.

A harsh and dangerous place. Just a year ago, Erika had become an apprentice knight with the highest marks and requested access to the Floor of Asceticism as her reward. She had lasted less than a month before abandoning the climb and leaving.

"Hmm... Even if I ask to enter the Floor of Asceticism, getting permission won't be easy."

"I, the Sword Tower itself, am granting you entry. What is the problem?"

"Does that mean you'll protect me?"

"Do not be foolish. What meaning would there be in climbing the Floor of Asceticism under protection? If I find your abilities wanting, I will give you even harsher trials."

That was what Kyle wanted, too. Even so, he could not readily accept the Fragment's demand.

To be honest, it was because of Arian. That bastard of a husband had been in seclusion for eleven years—no, considering she had been in the early stages of pregnancy, a full twelve years—without returning. Wouldn't it be too cruel to Arian if her only son also shut himself away in the Floor of Asceticism for something akin to secluded training?

'To think I'd even worry about something like this.'

That was how much love Arian had given him over the past eleven years. After considering it briefly, Kyle asked the Fragment a question.

"How long will it take?"

"I do not know. I have never done this either. Several years, I imagine."

"Can't I take someone else in with me?"

"You know nothing about the Floor of Asceticism. However many people enter at the start, they will never encounter one another inside."

That meant its interior was intricately twisted. Kyle thought for a moment, then spoke.

"I don't have to answer right away, do I?"

"You were so eager to complete your method, and now you hesitate?"

"There's a problem I need to resolve."

"What an absurd brat."

Grumbling quietly, the Fragment closed the passage leading to the Floor of Asceticism.

"I'll come back once I've resolved it. How can I call you?"

"Resonate with me from within the Sword Tower. I will come to you myself."

Still frowning, the Fragment stared at Kyle.

"But what exactly is this problem you intend to resolve?"

"Family matters."

Kyle added one more thing to his answer.

"My dad's a bit of a fucking bastard."

* * *

After leaving the grand library, Kyle did not return to Rose Manor.

"Grandfather."

The instant he stepped out of the elevator, he hurried to the Hall of Sword Pinnacles, but its doors did not open. Apparently, Julius had not come down to the first floor today.

'What now?'

Julius lived on the tenth floor. Kyle, however, had never been there. Even among Julius's own children, his eldest son Cartan was about the only one who could knock on the tenth floor's door.

"What is it?"

As he stood considering his options, Julius's voice came from behind him. Kyle turned, his face lighting up.

"There's something I'd like your permission for."

"Without even offering a greeting?"

Julius's eyebrows rose, but he did not seem genuinely displeased. He cherished those who proved their worth. And of all such people, Kyle had been his greatest favorite over the past few years.

What he particularly liked about Kyle was that the boy did not cultivate only himself. The audacious little fellow never neglected his own training, yet still looked after his relatives. Julius's youngest daughter, Erika, had benefited from Kyle's help six years ago, and his grandson Bruno had benefited a year ago.

That left Julius little choice but to indulge him. Even when Kyle came unannounced and insistently knocked on the Hall of Sword Pinnacles' doors like this, rather than scold him, Julius came personally to see what he wanted.

"I will at least hear this request of yours."

Julius opened the doors to the Hall of Sword Pinnacles and went inside. Kyle trotted after him as he spoke.

"I'd like to go outside the Sword Tower—no, outside Gladiheim. Please give me permission."

"So suddenly?"

Julius stopped and looked back at Kyle. An Alastor pureblood could go anywhere in Gladiheim. The same held true outside it. There was no particular need to obtain the head of the house's permission to leave.

But Kyle was too young. Brilliant though the boy was, sending an eleven-year-old child out into the world was dangerous. Julius quietly looked down at him and asked,

"Where in the world do you intend to go that you feel the need to ask permission? If you have come to me rather than Arian, you must mean to leave without her knowledge... Surely you do not intend to run away from home like your mother?"

"If I were running away, I wouldn't have come to ask your permission, Grandfather."

Kyle smiled broadly and declared with confidence,

"I'm going to bring back Aslan Antares."

"...?"

For a moment, Julius failed to recognize the name. More precisely, he recognized it, but could not comprehend Kyle saying it so boldly.

"Aslan... Antares. You mean your father? Why are you calling him by name?"

"If my father doesn't act like a father, do I have to call him one?"

His answer was every bit as confident. Julius stood with his mouth open for a moment, then composed his expression and nodded.

"You have a point."

As far as Julius was concerned, Aslan Antares was a son of a bitch, too.