["Son, do you know about butterflies?"]

My mother once asked me that.

["You may not know this, since you only ever see the beautiful butterflies that visit our garden, but they begin as insignificant caterpillars, nibbling on leaves in the lowest reaches of the forest."]

["Caterpillars? Don't butterflies fly as soon as they're born?"]

["Yes, caterpillars. No bigger than a fingernail, they nibble on leaves and slowly grow, keeping out of sight of other bugs. They spend long, tedious days as insignificant little creatures."]

A butterfly with splendid wings rested on my mother's hand.

["Once they endure a tedious, dangerous day, then endure more days just like it, glory comes to them. They grow wings that everyone would envy, and no longer need to hide from watchful eyes. They spread their splendid wings and soar into the blue sky."]

She spoke in a gentle voice.

["Arhan, my son. Someday, difficult and sorrowful days may come to you, too. The world is harsher and more unjust than the fairy tales you love would have you believe."]

["..."]

["Your trials may last a very long time. Like caterpillars hiding in the lowest places, you may have to avoid other people's eyes and endure long years alone, without anyone's help."]

The sun shone very brightly that day. It was sweltering, as summer days should be.

["That is a man's life here in the Iron Kingdom. Even your optimistic father, who lives like a childish dreamer, once went through a harsh time. So did Dmern at the smithy, who always wears such a bright smile. Perhaps it isn't only men. I went through the same before I met your father. My childhood in the blade city was so terrible that I don't even want to remember it."]

["..."]

["Perhaps men aren't the only ones who live harsh lives. And perhaps it isn't only those who live in the Iron Kingdom. It may be true of everyone living in this world. So, Arhan, my dear son. Someday you, too, will face a cold world."]

Those words were difficult for me to understand at the time. Yet I could clearly feel the love in her voice.

["Whenever that happens, remember the butterflies."]

My mother stroked my hair. As I relaxed into her gentle touch, I saw the butterfly resting on her hand take flight with powerful beats of its wings.

["Live without letting yourself be broken. Don't surrender to the world because things are difficult now. Promise yourself a tomorrow. Live looking toward a radiant tomorrow, not a painful today."]

The butterfly glittering in the sunlight was breathtakingly beautiful.

["Once that harsh time passes, you, too, will be reborn as a butterfly."]

Yes, it truly was so beautiful.

["A butterfly that can fly anywhere, with wings so beautiful that everyone will envy them..."]

Why had this memory come to me now?

I didn't know. The memory rising like a heat haze was far too warm. I didn't want to wake from it. I didn't want to return to reality. I only wanted to be a young boy, resting in the comfort of this prosperous estate and my mother's arms. I want to stay like this forever.

At ease.

"...diator."

Ah, Mother.

The harsh days that have come to me are so difficult. They are far too cruel for me to bear alone, young and weak as I am. I need you. I need you, always so gentle, and Father, who told me old stories with eyes as innocent as a boy's. I need my nanny, whose cooking was clumsy but whose enthusiasm surpassed anyone's, and the butler, who was slow but never made a mistake.

"Lit, tle, glad...iator."

I'm still too young and weak to overcome this harsh time alone. So please don't leave me. Don't go. Stay by my side just a little longer. I'm not ready to let you all go yet. I, I'm still...

"Wake, up. Lit, tle, Gladiator..."

It is hard to breathe.

It feels as though I'm submerged, slowly drowning. Beyond my hazy awareness, someone's voice calls desperately to me. Yet, ironically, being underwater is both suffocating and comfortable. A contradiction. How can the sensation of slowly dying be so peaceful? The strength gradually drains from my entire body.

And then...

「Young descendant.」

All the wistful scenery before my eyes burst into flames. The beloved figures blackened and vanished, and a moment later, countless sharp blades rose from the black ashes. They looked like gravestones honoring the dead, and like abandoned swords that had lost their owners. Among those innumerable blades stood a chair made of swords.

No, it looked far too magnificent to be called a mere chair. If I were to name it, it would have to be a throne. Since it was made of swords, the Sword Throne.

「It is not yet time for you to come here.」

"..."

「Didn't you say you would take revenge? Didn't you say you would become a swordmaster? Didn't you declare you were strong enough to kill a swordmaster?」

An old man resembling a lion sat upon the magnificent Sword Throne. I knew his face. But this time, he was no translucent specter. He looked straight at me with a complete body, as a fully corporeal being.

「Go back. To where you belong.」

At those words, unbearable pain flooded through me.

It felt as though swords were piercing me from head to toe.

And then.

"Wake up, Little Gladiator!"

At last, I clearly heard the voice that had been echoing so faintly.

"Hah!"

I let out a dry, rasping breath.

As my eyes opened, I saw countless people standing around me. All of them were watching me. Amid those countless gazes, I spotted a face wearing a sly grin.

「You halfwit. Quite the sleepyhead, aren't you?」

There stood Master, a specter once again.

「The sun is high in the sky. Get up and do what you must.」

* * *

The dwarves won the Racial Duels, the first event of the Endless Duel. Yet they received little attention. After all, why would anyone take an interest in a race that fielded a 「sword expert」? Rather than being praised for their prowess, the dwarves were criticized for putting forward someone far too powerful.

Complaints poured in: the fierce duels had been fun until the balance went completely to hell; it felt like suddenly being shown the ending in the middle of an entertaining story; like watching knights battle in a chivalric novel only for lightning to strike and kill every last bastard; like having to stop halfway through taking a shit.

The reaction had been much the same on an earlier occasion when the orcs' great chieftain appeared and killed everyone, so the dwarves admitted their mistake instead of offering ugly excuses. Their purpose had never been to win, but to advertise and sell their goods, so they decided to use the criticism as a form of controversy marketing. Thus, the equipment the dwarves had used so enthusiastically in the Endless Duel—the siege weapon 「Thunderbolt」 and 「Explosive Shells」—went on sale at low prices.

Whatever public opinion might be, high-quality goods at low prices are always welcome. The dwarves took an immediate loss but sold a great many new products, securing future profits while also silencing the criticism.

Yet apart from these workings of the market and calculations of profit, one person was attracting more attention than anyone else in the steel city.

"Sword Demon Liam. He'll undoubtedly amount to something great someday."

"Which academy did he attend? That swordplay he showed was no ordinary thing."

"I watched closely, and it resembled the swordplay of warriors from the Great Land. He may be an expert from the eastern continent. They have plenty of elusive fellows over there, don't they?"

The former Little Gladiator.

Sword Demon Liam.

He was the hottest fighter in the steel city.

"I put half my fortune on him and lost it all, but I have no regrets."

"Of course. It was an honor."

The reason for all that attention was simple. He had created plenty of entertaining spectacles during the Racial Duels, but above all, what he had shown was precisely the struggle the steel city loved.

"Had Goddess Lepri been watching, she'd have done at least three somersaults."

"That sounds rather close to blasphemy..."

"It's a figure of speech!"

The valor to accept every challenge despite being a mere 「sword walker」. The dazzling skill to plunge among countless powerful opponents and turn the battlefield upside down. Not only had he overwhelmed an orc with his own reasoning, he had shown tremendous courage by confronting a 「sword expert」 head-on while everyone else fled, despite being the weakest of them all!

Along with the so-called 'underdog effect,' he had shown himself worthy of the 'struggle' Goddess Lepri spoke of. Naturally, he had set people's hearts ablaze. How long had it been since a fighter worthy of the name had appeared?

"I've been a fan since he fought The Black Bride."

"The Black Bride? Why are you comparing some girl nobody's ever heard of to our Sword Demon? Does our Sword Demon, who went toe-to-toe with a sword expert, look like a f***ing joke to you?"

"Sword Demon Liam is a god. I will accept no arguments."

"Ah, so this is what they call the 'hope' of humanity..."

And so the name Sword Demon Liam spread incomparably farther than before. Arhan, lying quietly in the Arena's recovery ward and eating peeled apples, knew nothing of it.

Well.

"... Liam?"

As always, though, fame wasn't an unqualified blessing.

"Why, of all names, that f***ing name..."

At any rate, time passed.

* * *

"Fortunately, they say it isn't that serious."

When I heard the report on my condition in the recovery ward, it turned out that my injuries weren't severe. Dwight hadn't even launched a proper attack at me. If he'd fought in earnest, I'd be in the next world rather than here. My body would have been shattered, and I'd be a ghost floating about like Liam.

I hadn't lost consciousness because of injuries from fighting Dwight. It was the price of pushing 「Gale」 to its limit, compounded by some power I'd unknowingly awakened at the very end. A bizarre heat, as though my whole body were engulfed in flames. The moment it heated my heart and head, my consciousness flew far away.

「It is a precursor to wings.」

Liam explained the phenomenon to me.

「The paths extending through your body are solidifying. Now the power within you is beginning to affect the outside world, preparing for your own arcane power to awaken. During that process, your arcane power briefly burst forth.」

Yes.

For the briefest moment, I had tasted a fragment of what it meant to be a 「sword runner」.

「Of course, that does not mean you have become a sword runner. As I told you before, reaching that rank is exceedingly difficult for us Caravans.」

"... Yes, I remember."

「So don't become puffed up with unwarranted confidence. You are insignificant, pathetic, a dullard without a shred of talent, and your mental fortitude is rotten to the core.」

"..."

Liam showed no mercy even as I lay sick in bed. Truly, my swordmaster teacher's sword was sharp enough to stab even a feeble invalid.

「You remember, don't you? A Caravan's wings are completed using three blades as their material. You have only digested one so far, young descendant.」

Yes.

I still had a long way to go.

Well...

"One more apple, please."

"Sure. I'll peel it right away."

So surely it would be all right to rest for a little while now.

"Open your mouth and say 'ah.'"

"Yes."

Seolyun sat beside me, butchering an apple with a paring knife. The other fighters in the recovery ward sent us piercing looks. I'd felt those looks before. Everything they wanted to say was written on their faces.

Who the hell is that little fucker to get to be here with his girlfriend?

Why are we stuck here with nothing but ugly men?

Why doesn't anyone come visit me...?

Still lying in bed, I looked at them and gave them a gratuitous grin.

"Peeling apples is fun, too."

"Is it?"

"Yes. How should I put it? It's like peeling the skin off a face. Or cutting out a heart? Either way, it's not bad."

"..."

All while hoping they wouldn't notice Seolyun's suspiciously skilled knife work or hear the terrifying things she said with such an innocent face.

* * *

With the Racial Duels over, Sword Demon Liam's name ringing out everywhere, and piercing looks directed at me in the recovery ward, time passed slowly.

How much time had gone by?

The Arena announced in advance the scenario for the 「War Duels」, the second event of the Endless Duel.

Thanks to the resilience of my heart of steel, I recovered quickly and heard the details of the event together with Seolyun.

I'd heard before that the War Duels reenacted past wars recorded in history. They gathered large numbers of people to clash in teams, with the aim of sharing and remembering the history of the Iron Kingdom.

I listened to the announcement, hoping it would feature a historical war I knew.

But then.

"... A war of conquest fought around the 「Great Land」 on the eastern continent? I've never heard of this one. Do you know what war it was, Seolyun?"

"..."

"Seolyun? What's wrong? You look pale..."

Seolyun's expression was unusually grim. Her face had gone white, as if she'd seen a ghost. After keeping silent for a moment, she spoke.

"... My homeland."

"What?"

"It's the war my homeland was caught up in."

The war Seolyun's homeland had been caught up in?

That was strange. The 「War Duels」 were held to share and remember the Iron Kingdom's history. Why, then, had a war fought on the distant eastern continent been chosen as the theme? I couldn't understand.

But one thing was certain.

"... Do I know it? Of course I do. I'll never forget it as long as I live."

Seolyun was angrier than I had ever seen her.

"Because my homeland was destroyed in that war."

As I stood momentarily bewildered by this anger I'd never seen from Seolyun before, the Arena revealed the details of the coming 「War Duels」 along with the prize for the winner.

And with that, I understood why they had chosen this scenario.

- In these War Duels, fighters participating on the side of the fallen peninsula, the 'Defenders,' will be provided with the treasured artifacts they once used.

- These are artifacts symbolizing the dragon, familiar to all collectors. Treasures that include the Dragon Sword.

.

.

.

- As soon as these War Duels conclude, the Arena will sell the provided artifacts at a 'public auction.' We hope all who love passionate struggle under Goddess Lepri will show plenty of interest.

A promotional stage for selling the artifacts of a long-destroyed nation at the highest possible prices. Their intent to draw attention by putting historically recorded weapons on dazzling display was plain to see.

And then.

- One fighter from the winning team in these War Duels will be selected and granted the right to possess a dragon artifact. This will be a fine opportunity for fighters interested in the spoils of the fallen peninsula. A very, very fine opportunity!

Their intention to gather avaricious fighters in one place was equally apparent.

"Little Gladiator."

Seolyun's voice rang out, cold as ice.

I was certain of it.

"It looks like I'll have to win these 「War Duels」."

This...

It looked as though the War Duels wouldn't go smoothly, either.