Hegel, the elderly caretaker of the orphanage funded by the Church of Sergen, had been a wandering knight from the Free City.

At dawn, Hegel would tell me all sorts of things. Well, none of it was particularly special. His travels were so commonplace that I could have heard much the same by buying a storyteller at an inn a single beer. Hegel had no gift for words, so perhaps his stories were even less entertaining.

The way he taught me to handle a sword was crude. It was neither a systematically developed style of swordsmanship nor a training method taught at an academy. Perhaps even lessons from a city guard would have been better than Hegel’s.

But the journeys across the continent that Hegel told me about held romance, freedom, and light. Perhaps that was why I had found the old caretaker’s sword so beautiful beneath the moonlight. His swordsmanship was not great, but it bore the life of a veteran wandering knight.

And so I loved Hegel’s swordsmanship.

And I was fond of him.

“Someday, you too will leave this orphanage.”

Hegel said that to me one day when he was drunk.

“When that day comes, go out into the wide world. Don’t be afraid anymore.”

His words stayed with me, deeply.

Not long afterward, Hegel passed away at seventy-two. The cause of death was simple. Old and ailing, he died naturally of old age, in the caretaker’s bedroom in the orphanage basement, where a musty smell hung thick in the air.

A year later, I left the orphanage, carrying the long, slender blade I had always held with Hegel at dawn—my 「Needle」.

Since it was almost impossible for an orphaned woman to be knighted, I became a mercenary. Had Hegel seen me, he would have joked that although I had failed to become a knight, I had at least become a wanderer like him.

Once I began working as a mercenary, my name became known surprisingly quickly. I don’t know whether it was because of my unusual sword or because I was a young woman. They called me the 「Sewing Gypsy」.

.

.

.

“... Ah.”

I opened my eyes to sunlight shining through the curtains. In the mirror, the left half of my face belonged to Mary, the swordswoman scarred by burns, while the right belonged to Arhan Caravan, a boy whose face still held traces of childhood.

The more I trained, the more deeply I digested the memories contained in the sword. What effect were those memories having on me? One thing was certain. I was unmistakably different from the person I had been before eating it.

“Gypsy.”

It was a term for the nomadic peoples of the Free City. Usually, it referred to desert folk, so why had Mary, who was nothing of the sort, been given that nickname? I didn’t know. Mercenary nicknames were arbitrary things to begin with.

“Whew.”

I steadied my breathing and rose. Beneath the face reflected in the mirror, my body was smooth like forged iron rather than bulging with muscle. It had the firmness of a dancer’s body more than a warrior’s.

After a quick wash, I stepped out of the manor. I had to run again today. Just as I always did.

* * *

“There’s something I’d like to ask.”

「What is it?」

“If every story Father told me was true, and our Caravan family really was that great in the past... why can’t I find even a trace of it now?”

The question had occurred to me while training.

“Our butler, who knew the continent’s history inside out, and a merchant from the Free City with all sorts of miscellaneous knowledge both said they had never heard of Caravan. No matter how much time has passed, can something really vanish like smoke?”

Liam answered my question briefly.

「You’ll learn the truth as you draw closer to your goal. There’s no point in my telling you now.」

It was a vague answer. I would know when the time came? That was the sort of reply the witches of the Heavenly Empire might give.

As I pouted, Liam spoke.

「You certainly have a lot of questions, boy. Though you’ve always been that way, ever since you were little. Didn’t you always look at me hanging in the manor with irreverence in your eyes?」

“What do you mean, irreverence?”

「Whenever your father told you stories of Caravan, didn’t you look me over with disbelief in your eyes?」

That was true. When I fell silent, Liam added,

「You’re an unusual boy. Perhaps that is your talent, since you were born with such an unimpressive body.」

“How is something like that a talent?”

Watching me sweat profusely, Liam chuckled softly and whispered,

「Rather than blindly believing what you see and hear, you try to dismantle the outer shell and reach the essence—the truth—trapped within. That, too, can be a talent.」

I let out a breath, panting. As I ran so hard that my mouth tasted sweet with exhaustion, Liam’s voice echoed faintly.

「Doubt. Never lose that attitude. Those who do not know doubt can never surpass their limits.」

Never lose my doubt. Liam’s words made me smile despite myself. Hadn’t he told me before to stop doubting and trust him? Well, old people changed their tune all the time, didn’t they?

「Another irreverent thought, I see.」

“Not at all.”

Liam was far too perceptive. Always.

I brazenly kept my mouth shut and concentrated on running, but Liam spoke again.

「No more objections to this training? For the first ten days, you asked what purpose it served so often that I grew sick of hearing it.」

“... Even if I asked, wouldn’t you just give me another vague answer?”

「You know me well now.」

I chuckled along with him and ran up the hill. I was gasping for breath and nearly tripped over a jutting stone. But now, even if my posture faltered, I did not fall. I regained my balance, straightened up, and ran on with my back upright.

Watching me, Liam said,

「Well, before long, you’ll feel the results of your training.」

As he spoke, Liam was looking into the distance. I followed his gaze, but saw nothing. There was only a large zelkova tree and tall undergrowth. Was he admiring the scenery, like the exceedingly old man he was? Curious, I asked,

“What are you looking at?”

A subtle smile touched Liam’s lips.

「It seems the vermin are beginning to gather.」

“...?”

「Your complaints about the purpose of this training should die down soon.」

What was that supposed to mean?

「You’ll have your proof by tomorrow at the latest.」

* * *

This land had been abandoned. In the year since the swordmaster Carlos committed his massacre, not a single visitor had come. I was the only one living here.

Had the kingdom taken some special measures? Or perhaps people sensed something ominous because the smell of blood still lingered so strongly. They must have thought an evil dark mage lived here, or that a plague had swept through.

Well, whatever outsiders thought, it did me no harm. It was easy to concentrate, and no one paid me any attention. It was the perfect environment for devoting myself solely to training.

But this land could not remain mine alone forever. In this harsh kingdom, countless people lived with complicated circumstances. Hadn’t I seen people clinging to life, holed up in the garbage pits of the slums?

Whether an evil dark mage lived here or some unknown plague had swept through, there were bound to be people who coveted land with empty houses and no exacting nobles. And those who harbored such desires were usually people who had been driven to rock bottom.

“... Hmm.”

On my way back to the manor after finishing the run that had become part of my daily routine, I discovered traces that had not been there before.

Seeing me stop, Liam spoke.

「What is it?」

“There are people here.”

「What makes you think so?」

His voice was no different than usual. I scanned the undergrowth to the left of the path and described what I had seen.

“The flower bed on the left has been damaged. I can faintly make out different sets of footprints, too. Three people? No, I think about four passed through here. There’s a stench as well. Rotten food.”

「... Oh? Did you learn tracking from the village ranger?」

“No. I’m simply sensitive to things by nature.”

Yes. This was the sensitivity I had possessed since childhood: a habit of being unable to overlook small changes or newly made traces. The habit Liam himself had mentioned.

Doubt.

I took an interest in everything I saw and heard, down to the faintest smells around me. And the moment something new appeared or anything changed even slightly, I began to question it. My parents had warned me that living that way would be exhausting, but my innate sensitivity had never faded. It was not deliberate; it was closer to an instinct.

「With that talent, you could have achieved great success as a forest-exploring ranger or a mercenary.」

“...”

「Of course, it is also a very rare and special talent in swordsmanship.」

Liam spoke in an unhurried voice.

「So, what do you want to do?」

“What would you like me to do, Master?”

「Do as you wish. I’m curious to hear your answer.」

At his words, I took a moment to steady my breathing. I had just finished training. Did I have enough stamina left?

'I have enough.'

After checking my condition, I ran my hand over the long, slender blade at my waist. I had swallowed all of 「Needle」, the sword I found in the slums’ garbage pit, so I had prepared this similar, needle-like blade to replace it. It was sharp enough to pierce anything at a moment’s notice.

I closed my eyes briefly to think, then spoke.

“I should find out whether they could become new neighbors or whether they’re unwelcome guests.”

「And if they’re unwelcome guests?」

“I’ll assess their strength before acting. If I can handle them, I’ll drive them out. If I can’t, I’ll have no choice but to leave. That would be wise.”

I was pathetically weak right now. There was no reason to push myself into a confrontation. Wasn’t this abandoned land? There were no villagers left, no precious family. But apparently my heart did not agree with my rational mind.

「To my eyes, if those fellows turn out to be unwelcome guests, you’ll fight them whether they’re strong or weak.」

Liam was right. My chest burned hot.

I had had enough of unwelcome guests on this land filled with my memories. The trauma left by the swordmaster Carlos stirred within me. My hand trembled around the long blade. With rage.

“There’s something I want to ask.”

「What is it?」

“What you told me before—is it true?”

I turned to look into Liam’s eyes.

“As I am now, I could swing a sword all day without losing control of my breathing.”

Liam seemed to understand what I meant.

[“If you can swing a sword all day without losing control of your breathing, that alone will let you easily kill about five untrained people.”]

Yes, Liam had definitely said that. Had he exaggerated to motivate me? Or had he truly told me in advance what would become fact? I needed confirmation.

Liam began to speak slowly.

「Child. When it comes to swords, I never lie.」

“...”

「I guarantee it.」

Liam gave a sinister smile.

「If those unwelcome guests are untrained men, you’ll have proof of just how valuable my training has been.」

* * *

Pitch-black darkness filled the manor, where not a single candle burned. Closed curtains covered its windows. Had it been a long time since anyone aired the place out?

Inside the abandoned manor, a damp smell mingled with the strong, metallic odor of blood. That environment actually suited them. The unpleasant stench was familiar to them, and it meant this place had no owner.

“Was there a plague?”

“Maybe an imperial dark mage uses this place as a residence.”

“If that were true, we’d all have been corpses the moment we stepped inside. Don’t you know what terrifying labyrinths mages turn their homes into? This place has either been abandoned already or escaped a mage’s notice. No question.”

Snickers broke out in the quiet manor. As soon as they entered, they sank into the comfortable sofas. A large man wiped his filthy axe blade on one of them, leaving the leather upholstery soaked with blood.

“What luck. Not only did we find land without a soul on it, we got a manor like this too.”

“Who knows? Some ruined noble lord might have set it up as a vacation home.”

“Bwahaha! This shabby manor, a vacation home? Then we can slit his throat as soon as he comes visiting. If he brings his wife and daughter, we’ll keep those.”

“You think we’d get that lucky?”

The brutish men roamed haphazardly through the manor. Whenever they found jewelry in a wardrobe or drawer, they grinned broadly. But their biggest laughs came when they discovered lace-trimmed women’s underwear.

“Looks like this really is some noble lord’s vacation home! Ah, this is just—”

The men stretched out the women’s underwear and laughed crudely.

“Find a portrait or something! I’m already looking forward to...”

In a bedroom with pristine white bedding, four savage men chattered excitedly.

And then—

“Stop.”

A somewhat youthful boy’s voice sounded, distinct from those of the men.

“Mother liked things clean, and she hated even a single stain on the bedding. So get up from there.”

“... What?”

“Have you come because you’ve gone hungry for so long that you need food? Or do you simply need somewhere to stay? If it’s either of those, tell me. There are plenty of empty houses in this village, and the abandoned storehouses still hold plenty of food. If that’s why you’re here, I’m willing to accept you as neighbors. Answer me.”

It was the clear, orderly manner of speech peculiar to nobles. The men lying on the bed twitched their eyebrows. One rose, seizing the axe he had left on the floor.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The speaker visible beyond the darkness was a small boy. There was no need to look closely in the first place; his voice alone was far too young. Was he the son of this vacation home’s owner?

The man strode toward him, making no effort to hide his displeasure. Where did this little brat, whose head would split with a single swing of an axe, get the nerve...?

“Fuck, if you heard us, you should’ve hidden somewhere. Why come here and start this shit—”

As the distance closed, the man could see the boy more clearly. He was small, just as expected. A pretty boy with a face as beautiful as a woman’s. His body, as delicate as his face, looked as though a single kick would break it. The man looked him up and down and tightened his grip on the axe.

Then he noticed something long and slender held in the hand at the end of the boy’s frail arm. It was a blade, glittering keenly even in the darkness.

“...?”

But it was far too thin to be a weapon. Yes, like a needle.

“An unwelcome guest, then. Not a neighbor.”

The boy murmured. At the same moment, his face seemed to twist and change before the man’s eyes. For a fleeting instant, the boy became someone entirely different: a swordswoman with a face hideously disfigured by burns and a blazing gleam in her eyes...

Startled, the man jerked his axe upward. But the boy was faster.

“Uh... urk.”

The sharp light glittering at the boy’s fingertips became a line instead of a point. Like a needle sewing with thread, the sword tip pierced the man.

Quickly. So very quickly.