“This brings back memories.”

Someone spoke amid the melee raging in the 「Pitch-Black Forest」.

“Back then, everyone fought without asking questions. The Arena was called the fighting pit, there was no convention against killing, and justifications or practical gains were nothing but laughable nonsense. You youngsters call those days the ‘Age of War,’ don’t you?”

“The forest’s old man is reminiscing. A history book is walking around right in front of me.”

“Hoho, mind your manners. I’ve lived longer than your parents and grandparents combined, you wet-behind-the-ears brat.”

It was rare for the strongest representatives of each race to take the front lines in the 「Racial Duels」. Having reached such lofty heights, they bore many burdens. Authority, power, and strength always came with responsibility. They could not fight recklessly.

Too much depended on them.

“To be honest, I’m enjoying this.”

But at this moment, they no longer needed to hold back.

The stage was set.

“When was the last time I roamed a battlefield this freely?”

With no one left to appease, these mighty fighters brimmed with an incongruously youthful vigor. Scenting the fierce battlefield, they savored the feeling of returning, however briefly, to the old days they missed. Days when they could test their skills against one another to their hearts’ content, without considering politics, convictions, or profit...

“Struggle! Has always! Set the heart ablaze! Do you finally see! How empty your lives have been! You pointy-eared forest dwellers! You half-witted beasts! You frightened midgets of the Sky Mountains!”

The orc warrior—the orc king bearing identification tag 444—shouted gleefully, his blood burning hot. As his green foot struck the ground, savage battle aura poured forth. A single step heaved the earth, sending countless fighters tumbling off balance.

“That doesn’t mean we understand you ignorant orcs!”

“Puhahaha! When in this continent’s long history have you ever understood us? We don’t seek anyone else’s understanding!”

Sprouts emerged from the heaving ground. They grew into vines that bound the fighters, and a fierce rain poured from the night sky. Spirits entered the falling rain, turning its droplets into transparent spears that pierced their enemies. With a single gesture from an elf who had lived for eons, nature became violence.

“You’re all rampaging without a shred of dignity. How vulgar.”

Patches of unusually deep darkness lay across the violence-ridden battlefield. Silently, the darkness swallowed fighters and brought Hell into the mortal world. Seething screams and despair encroached upon the forest. The nobles of the night smiled loftily. Yet flames bloomed through the darkness.

“You creatures grown soft on peace have plenty to say. Unlike you, we still live amid war. What do you who laugh on level ground know of the sorrows of the Sky Mountains? Hothouse flowers like you will never defeat us hardened midgets!”

A thunderbolt.

The violent flames wrought by lumps of metal swept through the fighters. Deafening blasts erupted, followed by screams on every side, while the Iron Man, clad in the continent’s sturdiest armor, trampled those sprawled on the ground. A small war was being reenacted here—enough to recall the 「Racial War」 in which the seven races had once fought to assert their rights.

And then...

“You damned midget. What is that absurd black-iron armor?”

“Sorry, but the Sky Mountains are full of spirits far more fearsome than the ones you pointy-ears command. To survive, we had to find ways to hunt them down and kill them.”

The first race was eliminated.

“Blame the bounty of the World Tree. You’ve never needed to fight to protect something, nor felt the fury that demands you kill an enemy by any means necessary, have you? So it’s hardly strange that you should lose to us.”

The elves.

Their king, who held identification tag 444, lost it to Dwight, the dwarves’ vanguard commander.

“You fucking orc bastards!”

Next came...

“Did the g-great chieftain himself... enter this? This is impossible...”

“Puhahaha! The great chieftain? What an honor! But I’m sorry to say I’m merely an elder.”

The Beastfolk.

“Had the great chieftain come, everyone but the orcs would have died before nightfall! Puhahaha!”

The wolf-shaped Beastfolk lost his identification tag 444 to the orc king. With that, every Beastfolk fighter lost the right to fight in the Racial Duels. Two races had been eliminated in an instant.

“Hmm.”

And then...

“The night is almost over now. I can smell the dawn.”

The Demonkin quietly slipped out of the fighting.

“Fighting after sunrise would only make us look disgraceful. Rather than cling on ignominiously, we shall make a graceful exit. As a certain human said, leave while they’re still applauding.”

Watching the sky grow brighter, they forfeited without hesitation.

The Demonkin’s identification tag 444 was tossed to the ground.

“We’ll stop here. We’ve had a look at an interesting human, so this is quite enough.”

And so three races departed.

As dawn broke, three remained.

Humans, orcs, and dwarves.

And...

“That’s a 「sword walker」...?”

In the midst of the melee, one human fighter commanded more attention than anyone else.

* * *

「Gale」’s broken blade had marked the wandering swordsman’s final moments.

The sword he had refused to release even after it broke resembled him in a way. Even if he was broken, even if everyone mocked him, even if no one acknowledged him, even if he never learned what his efforts had ultimately achieved—he pressed steadfastly onward all the same.

Gale’s former owner never learned where the final wind he raised had reached. But as he died, he felt no regret. Nor did he look back on his past. He simply faced the present into which he had poured his life.

Like a wind wandering without a destination.

Like a gale flowing only forward, brushing past everything.

Only because the wind never checked the outcome did it finally become complete.

“Whew...”

My light body roamed the battlefield. My keen senses detected approaching enemies in advance. My 「path」 collided with theirs. This always happened when swordsmen of sword walker rank or higher faced off. Victory depended on whose path was more efficient and complete.

But now I had no need to go through that process.

“...?”

There was no collision.

I simply let them flow past. The moment we brushed against one another, their swords wavered wildly, tangled into intricate knots, and fell apart. A sword that disrupted the flow. A gale that swept over my enemies with me at its center. Even fighters who had reached 「sword runner」 could not readily counter this mysterious principle.

I could see several paths.

The orthodox 「path」 of the knight Petel, who had trained steadfastly all his life.

The doubt-filled 「path」 founded upon my Suspicion.

The flame-like 「hero’s path」 that appeared when certain conditions were met.

But at this moment, I followed none of those three. This path was fainter than the others and wavered without a destination, yet that very lack of a fixed destination made it the freest of all.

The wandering swordsman’s 「path of wind」.

“What, what kind of clown’s trick is this!”

It was not a path meant to cut off an enemy’s head.

It merely brushed past. When I swept past my enemies like a gust, my free 「path」 intertwined with theirs, becoming a dizzying curve. The path formed a spiral that whirled around me, and my enemies lost their balance without understanding why.

「There could hardly be a better sword for a melee.」

Liam was right.

At that moment, I became a specter, just like the nickname I had earned in the Arena. A Sword Demon no one could catch, only watch. But there was something I needed to recognize.

No matter how wondrous the power within this sword might be...

“Oh?”

I, the one swinging the blade, was still nothing more than a novice.

“Descendant of steel, that’s quite an interesting sword you wield.”

The raging wind stopped in the center of the battlefield. Having briefly lost myself in the moment, I slowly raised my head and looked ahead. A midget clad in pitch-black iron armor stood there. No, not a midget. His frame was smaller than mine, but his presence was overwhelmingly vast.

“That shouldn’t be a power you can possess at your present level. Is it the power of steel?”

I could see no 「path」 from this dwarf.

Nor could I blow him away with the wind.

Because...

「Now you’ll know how those who were startled by your sword felt, young descendant.」

The aura I felt from this dwarf was far too heavy and solid.

It was like...

「It isn’t the same as ours, but it is astonishingly similar.」

Looking at the sword born from my own heart.

「This midget has attained steel.」

「Not through the blessing of blood, but through effort alone...」

Yes.

It truly felt as though I stood before a man of iron.

“I’ve cleared away everyone who might interfere with us. Do you see over there?”

The dwarf grinned.

Dwight pointed behind him.

“Now only us midgets and the humans remain.”

An enormous orc lay there with his eyes rolled back. Identification tag 444 was wedged in his mouth, marked with a large ‘X.’

The orc king had been defeated. The orcs were eliminated.

Probably by the dwarf standing before me.

“Ironically, don’t you belong to both races, descendant of steel? How amusing.”

“...”

“Whichever side wins, you have nothing to lose, descendant of steel. Puhahaha.”

Dwight’s eyes gleamed as he looked at me.

“I behaved disgracefully earlier. If I followed my heart, I would do anything you wished, descendant of steel. But you wouldn’t want me to hand you an empty victory, would you?”

“No.”

“I believe what would satisfy you most is a trial. A very, very harsh trial that hammers the blood of steel flowing within you to the brink of breaking.”

Dwight drew a hammer from behind his back.

“To make amends for my disgraceful behavior, I shall become your harshest trial.”

“...”

“I give you my word.”

Then, for a moment, I saw something that wasn’t there.

Briefly, what stood before me ceased to be a dwarf.

“From this moment onward, descendant of steel, you will face a wall.”

A fortress stood there.

* * *

「I’ll be honest, young descendant.」

“...”

「Sending this fellow out on the dwarves’ side borders on cheating.」

Liam spoke gravely.

「Of course that powerful-looking orc lost. However skilled he may be, he is merely an elder at best.」

Dwight stood before me, watching me without a word.

「At the very least, a chieftain would have needed to come to bring this dwarf down. Even then, he wouldn’t have won. It would barely have qualified as a fight.」

“...”

「Do you know why?」

Dwight still looked like a fortress to my eyes.

An impregnable iron citadel.

Its grandeur overwhelmed me for a moment, but when I regained my composure, I could make out its precise shape.

It was not a fortress. It looked like one, but it wasn’t.

It was armor.

In other words...

「This fellow is a sword expert.」

The symbol of a sword expert.

“I will not go easy on you. Descendant of steel, the enemies you must cut down in the future will be far stronger than I am. You will surpass those with wings and contend with the masters of armor, then someday fight the supreme beings who have forged their souls into swords. Just as the great 「Caravan」 did in the Age of War.”

“...”

“And inevitably, you will cross swords with the Iron King's executioner as well.”

Hammer in hand, Dwight spoke calmly.

“Compared to them, I am an insignificant weakling. Alone, without a legion, they can take a single sword and erase the dwarves from this world. They can make an enemy of an entire nation and excise it from history. They can cleave the sky and sea as though mocking the gods.”

“...”

“Someday, descendant of steel, you will stand alongside them. That is the destiny of steel, the great purpose flowing through your blood.”

The hammer in his hand slowly moved.

“I pray the harsh trial I give you now will be of help.”

The curtain rose on the final battle of the 「Racial Duels」.