『A boy dreams of becoming the hero.』

『But not every boy can be the hero.』

* * *

“Kh, kehack.”

Meken simply could not believe what had just happened. His stomach churning, he stared wide-eyed at the boy who had stepped forward as Petel’s champion.

'How is this possible?'

Exceptionally outstanding swordsmanship?

That he could understand. He had never been particularly skilled with a sword, even back when he trained at the academy. He had obsessed solely over advancing his rank. His fundamentals were so abysmal that in a pure swordfight without Mana, he could not guarantee victory even against the academy’s trainees.

Besides, wasn’t that boy so close to that ignorant fool that, now Petel the Loyal had croaked, he had volunteered to duel Meken—a 「sword runner」, no less?

If he was the prized pupil of Petel, a master technician who had spent his entire life doggedly working at nothing but the fundamentals, his exceptional swordsmanship made sense.

Blocking a few of his attacks by sheer luck? That, too, he could accept.

Meken had only recently become a 「sword runner」 and could not properly control the flow of Mana generated by his wings. A sword walker with keen natural instincts who could see 「paths」 might somehow manage to block his sword a few times.

Yes, he could accept all of that.

Except for one thing.

'How can he be so hard?'

Hardness.

During his second exchange with the boy, Meken had briefly mistaken him for steel—steel so extraordinarily hard that a sword like his could not even scratch it.

Everything, from the boy’s heart to the paths extending from it, was far too hard. That should have been impossible.

'Is he of mixed blood with another race? No, even then, that was beyond all reason. Not even a descendant of demons could have a heart like that at merely the sword walker rank.'

Meken’s vision swam in a blur. His stomach churned, and nausea rose in his throat.

He knew what this was.

'Mana shock.'

When one collided with harder, more intense Mana than one’s own, the Mana accumulated within the body was violently shaken. Ordinarily, only elderly knights who had built up their solidity through long years of training could produce such an effect.

In other words, it was not something that should happen to Meken, a 「sword runner」, merely from crossing blades with a boy who was only a 「sword walker」...

“What tr-trick is this? This can’t be happening.”

“...”

“Yes. Gold. You paid a fortune in gold for a magical device from the witches of the Heavenly Empire, and you’re hiding it somewhere. Or did you steal some treasure from the dwarves?”

Meken spoke with bloodshot eyes.

The boy’s answer came immediately.

“Think whatever you please.”

That indifferent reply enraged Meken all the more.

At the same time, the boy’s unwavering eyes reminded him of an elderly knight: the captain of his own order, the 「Yellow Elephants」.

A monstrous 「sword runner」 with four pairs of wings, an arbiter who had won countless duels of honor, and an honorable sword who had distinguished himself in numerous wars.

The hardness Meken had felt from the boy rivaled what that old knight had attained in his twilight years. That was why he could not possibly accept what was happening before his eyes.

“Don’t try to brush this aside with an answer like that.”

Clenching his teeth, Meken raised his sword, steadied his breathing, and calmed his surging Mana. One wing was broken. But what did that matter?

He still had one wing left, and he would not fall for the same trick twice.

Yet, for some reason, he could not shake the unease creeping over him.

At that moment, advice the captain of the 「Yellow Elephants」 had once given him—that unpleasant old man—echoed through his mind.

[“Meken, don’t take pride in having formed your wings faster than others. I guarantee that one day you will bitterly regret failing to harden yourself before you formed them.”]

Damn it. That bloody hardness.

“I don’t need hardness, you old bastard. Rank is what matters most. How high your rank is—that’s everything there is to the sword...”

Gripping his sword, Meken flung his unbroken wing wide.

Even so, the voice echoing in his ears would not stop.

[“When you face an enemy harder than yourself, you will shatter and break miserably. Wings? Wings that haven’t matured are nothing but paper, you fool.”]

His 「mana heart」 beat, his 「paths」 granted him superhuman strength, and the remaining half of his 「wings」 unfurled. Meken could neither understand nor accept the captain’s words.

He intended to prove that he had been right.

By utterly crushing this hard-bodied boy who reminded him of that old man.

* * *

「The secret of a sword runner’s wings lies in the name itself.」

Only after I broke one of Meken’s wings did Liam begin explaining.

「Runner. It means a person who runs.」

「Just as the name suggests, a sword runner’s wings make everything run.」

「To put it more simply, they can accelerate anything at tremendous speed.」

Acceleration.

The moment I heard that, I understood the secret behind Meken’s bizarre movements. Acceleration to an abnormal speed. That was what made his near-teleporting sword strikes possible.

But that raised a question.

If he could accelerate and move at a speed that defied all reason, why had he bothered with a preparatory motion instead of cutting me down at once?

If he had not shown me the downward swing of his sword, my head would have been severed before I could react, warning chill or no warning chill.

The questions did not end there.

If he could accelerate to that extent, why had he moved at an ordinary speed right in front of me? If he was too fast for the eye to follow, he should have been able to break through my defense and swing his sword along another trajectory.

It was also strange that he had failed to react to the unconventional thrust while our blades were locked.

There were far too many things that did not add up.

「I have a fair idea of what you’re wondering, young descendant. The answer to those questions is simple.」

Liam answered those unspoken questions for me.

「Because that fool still has only one pair of wings.」

One pair of wings.

The answer was that he was only a novice 「sword runner」.

「With one pair of wings, you can accelerate only one thing. Nor can you sustain the acceleration for long. If you accelerate your body with one pair of wings, you cannot accelerate your mind. Your body becomes immensely fast, but your head cannot keep up.」

Only then were my questions resolved.

「If your head cannot keep up, you cannot execute techniques. This Meken fellow fights exactly as novice sword runners typically do. Since they cannot accelerate several things at once, they make their preparatory motion beforehand, appear in an instant to slaughter the enemy, and retreat again.」

“...”

「An experienced swordsman whose swordsmanship was already excellent could accelerate his mind and overwhelm you with technique at close quarters, but...」

Liam cast a sidelong look at Meken.

「As you’ve noticed yourself, his swordsmanship is utterly abysmal. To make a comparison, he’s a novice fighter with a muscular body and the brain of a little brat.」

“...”

「As you young people put it, a big, strapping f*cking scrub, was it?」

A f*cking scrub.

I could not agree with that description.

Only someone like Master, a great 「swordmaster」, could say such a thing.

'One wing is broken, but his presence is as formidable as ever.'

I had expended quite a bit of stamina in that last exchange. In particular, because I was still unused to employing my line, even that single thrust had left my body drained.

「Well, what a shame. If you had broken the entire pair, it would have been a perfect victory.」

“... Honestly, breaking even one was a miracle.”

Holding 「Twilight」, I breathed steadily and glared at Meken.

「The real fight starts now. Respond without losing your hardness. The greatness of the Caravans shines all the brighter the longer a battle lasts.」

Meken’s remaining wing fluttered.

「As I always say, the more we’re hammered, the harder we become.」

「Like steel.」

A sharp tingle ran through me.

With it came a chilling sensation at the back of my head.

It was starting again.

* * *

Meken lacked outstanding swordsmanship. His rank was high, but he could not skillfully use what he possessed.

That made his sword threatening but monotonous. In his place, I would have used those wings far more effectively. Dozens of possibilities sprang immediately to mind.

Well, that was fortunate for me.

But having been wounded once, Meken no longer charged in as mindlessly as before.

'Why is he doing that?'

He stood still, watching me, and repeatedly made only the preparatory motion of slashing his sword down through empty air. Each time, my 「paths」 sent a warning signal. The thunderous sensation left me increasingly exhausted.

After feeling as though I had been struck by lightning about five times, I realized his intention.

'He’s started fighting intelligently.'

My 「paths」 could anticipate an attack before a sword runner unfurled his wings and struck, picking up the distinctive Mana fluctuations. But they could not distinguish a real attack from a feint. That was the difference in our ranks.

Meken slashed his sword several times where he stood, as though practicing his swordsmanship. I had no choice but to react to every single movement with all my strength.

To an onlooker, two men standing still and flailing about with swords must have looked ridiculous. But this was a contest of tactics in which losing ground meant death. And a 「sword runner」 had an overwhelming advantage in such a contest.

“Hoo, hah—”

Constantly maintaining my defensive motions began to deplete my stamina. Seeing my breathing grow labored, Meken’s eyes gleamed. Another warning chill came, and I reacted a little more sluggishly than before.

This time, he attacked for real.

CLANG!

“Ngh.”

Our swords collided with a metallic ring. Sparks flew, and my wrist trembled.

After a single exchange, Meken retreated like a ghost.

Then he repeated three or four more feints before lunging at me.

This time, it was not his sword.

“Urgh.”

Feigning a sword swing, he kicked me in the abdomen with the toe of his plate-armored boot. For an instant, I thought all my innards had been crushed and were about to spill out of my mouth. Blood surged into it.

It felt as though my stomach would explode from the kick and my torso would break into pieces. Lifted off my feet and hurled backward, I bit my lip and forced myself to endure.

I could not lose my balance. I braced my lower back hard and straightened up.

If I fell even once, Meken would advance instead of retreating and cut off my head. Fighting to steady my breathing, I pointed my sword forward again.

Meken advanced again.

His wing unfurled.

CLANG!

“Hoo, ngh.”

“Oh?”

Beyond our locked blades, I saw Meken’s eyes gleam.

Twilight was being pushed back by his sword, trembling.

“It was a trick after all. You couldn’t maintain that hardness indefinitely.”

“...”

“Yes, of course you couldn’t. That wasn’t a hardness a novice like you could possess. Heh, hehehe.”

Meken’s eyes grew sharp as a beast’s.

“Now that I’ve seen the limits of what you can do, there’s no need to fight this way.”

At the same time, his remaining wing unfurled. He no longer retreated. His long blade came hurtling in with tremendous force.

“Hup!”

I blocked it with all my strength. But blocking was no reason to feel relieved. Meken’s sword did not stop, hammering endlessly against my defenses. There was no subtlety of swordsmanship in it.

He was simply pressing his advantage in speed and strength.

“Again! Do it again!”

“Hoo—”

“Do it again, you miserable—”

“Hah—”

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Fierce metallic crashes rang out as we traded several exchanges in an instant.

Twilight moved according to Petel’s memories as it blocked Meken’s blade. Orthodox knightly swordsmanship. Crude and simple, but the work of a sword that pursued hardness.

“Bastard!”

Meken’s elbow bumped against mine.

We had closed completely while our blades were locked.

At that instant, Petel’s memories surged up through the blade.

『A duel is not a glorious fight like those in novels.』

At the same time, my body moved of its own accord.

My leading foot scraped across the dirt and slipped between Meken’s legs. His eyes shifted. The next instant, my foot moved swiftly to hook his ankle, and his body staggered.

『My duel of honor was not for honor.』

『It was for you.』

『That was why I did anything it took to win.』

My body moved on its own, turning in a rough motion. With our elbows pressed together, our wrists entangled. Keeping his ankle hooked, I used Meken’s own weight and strength against him to spin him around.

『That was how I kept myself from breaking.』

Expert sword wrestling.

A grappling technique employed when fighters closed in while holding swords. The skill of a seasoned knight, preserved in a corner of Petel’s memories, unfolded.

“You!”

But Meken’s 「wing」 was far too troublesome. His remaining wing unfurled, and the distance between us opened in an instant. Yet it was not as great as before.

'With only half his wings, he’s gradually reaching his limit.'

Yes, no bird could fly forever with only one wing. Clenching my teeth, I squeezed out what little stamina remained and ran toward Meken.

Meken’s wing was almost spent now.

He would need time before he could unfurl even that remaining wing again.

So this was my only chance.

“You, you fucking...”

Just then, I saw a blue 「path」.

It was Meken’s. Advancing in rank did not erase the fruits of earlier accomplishments. Reaching the rank of 「sword runner」 meant being a perfected 「sword walker」.

“I take back what I said about sparing your life. You die here.”

Countless 「paths」 swallowed the world before my eyes. It was the same phenomenon I had experienced when I first saw Petel. A wave of infinite 「paths」 that could neither be avoided nor escaped.

Standing beyond that wave, Meken spat. Both wings that had spread behind his back were now neatly folded. At least for this moment, he could be regarded as a 「sword walker」 rather than a 「sword runner」.

But was that really good news?

Meken was inexperienced as a 「sword runner」, but as a 「sword walker」, he was surely a swordsman who had reached the utmost limit. Perhaps his perfected paths were more threatening than his imperfect wings.

I clenched my teeth and gripped Twilight.

And...

『To protect something, I had to grow strong.』

At that moment, Petel’s memories surged up with maddening intensity.

『That was how my sword was forged.』

As though, for that one moment, I had become Petel himself.

『There must be many swordsmen who have remained at the sword walker rank longer than I have.』

『But I can say this with pride.』

Dust rose from the ground.

『No swordsman in this Iron Kingdom has struggled as viciously and as uglily as I have at the very edge of the sword walker rank.』

『So of this one thing, I am certain.』

Toward the 「paths」 bearing down on me through the dust, my new 「paths」 began to unfold.