In a room where winter’s chill had not yet fully faded.

An old man sat there alone, with no one else around.

The carpet beneath his feet was soft, and the clothes he wore were thick, yet even so, the old man kept bending his back toward the blazing fireplace as if a chill still ran through him.

"... So it has come to this in the end."

Court Duke Armand.

A man who had abandoned the family name that should have followed his name in order to fulfill the duty that stood before it.

From his aged mouth, a cracked voice that could no longer be helped leaked out.

"I will not even have the face to see you after I die."

Armand’s gaze was fixed on the burning logs, but his withered hand clutched a worn scrap of paper.

That scrap, which he had treasured all this time, was the last telegram Auguste, the former Imperial Enforcer Commander, had sent him.

"..."

Looking down at the scrap he had unfolded countless times and still could not stop regretting, Court Duke Armand wore a troubled expression.

Auguste, my sword and the imperial sword, and the knight who had been the proud commander of the Imperial Enforcers.

Thinking of the man he could no longer see, Court Duke Armand clenched the scrap of paper in his hand.

"... But even if you are gone, I suppose I must still do what must be done."

A sad old man, for he had failed to fulfill the duty he had to carry out.

Like the heat of the firewood slowly dwindling away, Armand’s own time was also running short, but the old duke had not yet given up.

Because the final telegram sent by his loyal knight still contained hope enough to burn.

Though the bloodline could not be continued, he would try, at least once, to carry on the will.

In Armand’s eyes, as he held the scrap said to have been sent by Auguste from the elves’ forest, there still lingered a heat that had not gone out.

* * *

"You are indeed as I heard. Deep blond hair and blue eyes."

"..."

Seeing the men surround him in an instant, Vlad carefully set down the glass of liquor he had been holding.

Because he had realized the men glaring at him were not some worthless street thugs, but formidable swordsmen.

"And who might you be, traveling around in such a pack?"

"I am Rodrigo, senior knight of the Imperial Enforcers."

On the flag the men carried was drawn a single streak of white lightning, as if piercing through the darkness.

It was the flag of the Imperial Enforcers, the pride of the Imperial Capital Brigantes, said to stand shoulder to shoulder with the imperial guard.

"... If you are Imperial Enforcers, are you not supposed to be in the Imperial Capital?"

"We have come to arrest a criminal."

BANG!

Perhaps displeased by Vlad’s still-calm expression despite being surrounded without a gap, the man set down a sheet of paper with a sharp noise.

The paper placed on the table as if telling him to take a look was an order to arrest Vlad in the name of Court Duke Armand.

"I hereby arrest you for the murder of Sir Auguste, former Imperial Enforcer Commander. Vlad."

"What?"

Deep blond hair and blue eyes.

The Imperial Enforcers were baring their teeth at the knight of the North who was unmistakably of dragon blood.

Because they had just discovered that the last person their captain had been with before his wretched death was the young dragon standing before them now.

"..."

Remembering the familiar name spoken by the unfamiliar man, Vlad began reading through the arrest warrant he had set down with a slightly trembling hand.

On that warrant, written in short, decisive strokes, were indeed his own name and Auguste’s.

"He passed away? Lord Auguste did?"

"Do not play innocent, blood of the dragon."

Vlad asked after Auguste’s life and death with his face gone rigid, but the Imperial Enforcers merely drew their swords.

Believing even this to be the culprit’s foolish trick, their blades were filled with anger they did not even try to hide.

"Your guilt is already proven by the blond hair and blue eyes you were born with."

"..."

Within that sharp, inescapable misunderstanding, Vlad’s eyes trembled.

The old knight who had once told him to seek him out if he ever came to the Imperial Capital.

He was the man who had told Vlad that, should anything happen, he could use his name regarding Imperial Swordsmanship.

"When? By whom?"

"... You bastard."

Within Vlad’s name were countless aspects.

To Quijano, he was a star looking up at the sky, and to Auguste, he was the knight who had protected the young World Tree.

"As expected of one of dragon blood, all you show is cowardly deceit!"

But to Rodrigo, he was only a dragon who had killed their captain.

Toward the blood of the dragon playing the innocent, the worlds hidden in the knights’ left eyes began to form.

"Vlad Dragulia! I hereby arrest you!"

Those who called him not by the name he had earned, but simply by the name he had been born with.

Facing the men who saw him not as a knight, but as a dragon, Vlad bit down on his lip.

"... It was not me."

Vlad knew.

The misunderstanding had already tangled like a skein of knotted thread, and he had fallen into it as if into a trap.

"I did not kill Sir Auguste."

So I must prove it to the knights here.

That I am not a dragon, and that I did not kill their captain.

With those words, Vlad slowly rose from his seat and drew his sword.

The world of Vlad, who sought to prove his own innocence, shone proudly with golden light.

* * *

BOOOOM!

At the tremendous noise spreading from the middle of the city, Baron Moldavir and Joseph were startled.

It was a noise so powerful that the teacups they were holding trembled.

"What is that! What is happening!"

At the sudden noise, Baron Moldavir hurriedly rose from his seat and rushed to the window.

Because, with the political situation of the central region changing so rapidly these days, he had been startled into wondering if perhaps a Territory War had broken out.

"W-What in the world is..."

But the city wall he had been watching closely was simply quiet.

There was only a thick cloud of dust rising from the middle of the marketplace far in the distance.

Recognizing a familiar golden flash within that pale-gray dust, Joseph quietly set down the teacup he had been holding.

* * *

"Damn it!"

"You rat of a bastard! You knew already!"

Knights were sent tumbling through the wall that burst apart with a deafening crash.

The ones who had not shown themselves until now were other Imperial Enforcers who had been blocking the escape routes outside the building.

'Six in total!'

There had been four knights surrounding Vlad inside the tavern, but in truth, including the knights waiting outside the building, there were six in all.

Having pinpointed even the locations of those holding their breath through his keen hearing, Vlad had deliberately pressed Rodrigo and then smashed through the wall where they stood, creating confusion.

"Lord Vlad!"

"You stay out of this!"

Nibelun was hurriedly rummaging through his backpack, but this time Vlad could not accept his help.

"I will handle it myself!"

Though it was nothing more than the floor of a disorderly marketplace, the place where Vlad now stood was no different from a courtroom.

The only courtroom where he could prove his innocence through the knights standing before him.

For complete innocence, he would have to persuade them with his sword alone.

CLANG!

"Do you think you can prove your innocence with this petty violence? Vlad Dragulia."

"..."

But the process of proving himself had never once been an easy path.

From Rodrigo’s blazing left eye, the anger Vlad had seen earlier was welling up.

Everything had begun from a misunderstanding, but at least the anger he carried was surely justified.

"Did you ask earlier how Lord Auguste died?"

Rodrigo’s world was a world of tightly tangled chains.

Following Rodrigo’s world, which held the color of cold iron, his sword gradually began to lengthen.

"...!"

His sword, now stretched so far that its reach was difficult to predict, began bending toward Vlad as if it were a rope meant to bind a criminal.

"That is what I want to ask you!"

BOOM!

It looked supple, yet when it struck, it had enough force to make the ground burst apart.

At the marketplace floor bursting apart so wretchedly, the merchants nearby began to scream.

"Now!"

"Bind him!"

Vlad was startled by Rodrigo’s attack, which had bent in like a whip, but he had no time even to breathe before the other knights came charging in.

"Submit quietly to your bonds, bastard of Dragulia!"

The wretched death of the captain they had trusted and followed all their lives.

The noble knight who should not have withdrawn like that, nor died, had ultimately returned as a cold corpse, and the knights who had lost their captain poured their directionless rage onto Vlad.

["... Move already! Before they get into formation!"]

"Tch!"

Sharper than the blades thrusting straight out were the directions from which the knights stepped in.

Their movements, occupying every possibility through which he might advance, pressed down on Vlad like an iron net descending from the sky.

CLAAANG! CLANG!

'I cannot let them drive me back any farther!'

He understood their intent, but escaping was difficult.

If he blocked one sword, another sword came in, and just when he thought he saw an opening to shove it away, another knight had already stepped into the empty gap.

'What the hell!'

And amid all that, Rodrigo’s sword kept flying in without rest.

The clinging malice of the Imperial Enforcers, determined to capture him alive no matter what, made Vlad’s footwork grow disordered.

["Predict their next moves! Only then can you get out!"]

"...!"

He could not possibly escape through the openings he could see.

Then he had no choice but to predict the openings that would be made and escape through them.

Understanding Quijano’s advice, Vlad hurriedly kicked off the ground and pulled back.

BOOOOM!

Some building burst apart once again under Rodrigo’s blade.

It was hard for Vlad even to breathe in the thick dust created by the collapsing building, but he simply tried to raise his sword with a calm expression.

"... That is."

His shoulders heaved violently as if he were exhausted, but the glare in his eyes alone was fierce.

Rodrigo felt a strange sense of wrongness from the sight of Vlad glaring at them from up ahead with his sword raised.

The way he raised his sword over his shoulder, like an arrow about to be loosed.

Vlad’s stance, steadying his breath for a single strike, was undoubtedly one very familiar to the knights of the Imperial Enforcers.

["Can you see it now?"]

"Yes."

There was an opening visible among the knights, who had faltered for a moment in surprise.

It had not yet been made, but Auguste’s eye saw through the gap that would open at the moment the sword reached it.

"I can see it."

He could hear the movement of twitching muscles.

He could see the remnants of breath about to be released.

And therefore, even the openings in them that would soon be made.

["Then go!"]

A technique of the former Imperial Enforcer Commander laid atop Imperial Swordsmanship.

At that sight, as if their captain stood before them, if only for a brief moment, the knights of the Imperial Enforcers were shocked out of their wits.

"Hraaaah!"

Following the weaknesses shown by Auguste’s path, Vlad’s sword began to sweep past.

From point to line, a graceful single stroke connected like a brush.

Watching the silver sword sweep past them, the knights of the Imperial Enforcers felt a strange resonance ringing from deep within their chests.

HUM... HUMMM... HUM...

The silver sword in Vlad’s hand was crying.

Together with the coins of true silver the knights carried in their chests.

Those coins, which could be bought only with honor, were a noble metal possessed only by those who had laid themselves down, and they were also things that had originated from a single sword.

"Impossible!"

Seeing the sword pass through the knights and approach him, Rodrigo’s mouth fell open wide.

Because, as he watched the silver sword ringing on its own, he remembered the contents of the last message Auguste had sent.

Aushrina.

The Swordmaster’s sword.

Drawn.

"With this sword, I will prove my innocence!"

The Swordmaster’s swordsmanship was cutting through the darkness created by misunderstanding as it approached.

Feeling, along with that sword, the resonance of the coin slowly ringing in his chest, Rodrigo was able to understand.

The young dragon of Dragulia, who had been with their captain until the very end, was not a murderer.

Only then, seen from another side, Vlad’s figure was not that of a dragon, but that of a knight who had inherited someone’s will.