Han had won this round of the 「War Duels」, fought in the Territory Battle format.

When I first heard the result, I was puzzled.

Han had won? How?

As I lost consciousness after my defeat by Seolyun, I had assumed the 「Great Land」 would win these War Duels. After all, I had done one stupid thing after another.

To digest the Dragon Sword, I had squandered my chances to summon the 「Guardian Dragon」. Stepping forward to duel Seolyun one-on-one had been foolish, too. In a Territory Battle, the defenders always have an overwhelming advantage. Once they establish their formation, they stand to gain a great deal just by stalling. And hadn't these War Duels even specified how long we needed to hold out?

Instead of stepping forward to duel Seolyun, I could have pulled my weight simply by hiding among the soldiers and steadily thinning the conquering army's ranks. No, that wasn't merely pulling my weight. It was the role I was supposed to fulfill.

My one-on-one duel with Seolyun had been neither rational nor strategic. It was an emotional act I had undertaken alone, purely to satisfy my personal desires. And “emotional” actions taken “alone” were taboo in large-scale warfare. In that respect, I was nothing more than a troublemaker who had failed to do his job and committed a whole slew of things he shouldn't have.

Honestly, I had expected this lone escapade to send my image and honor as a fighter plummeting to rock bottom. But since when did the world run on reason and logic alone? Besides, this was the steel city—a city of lunatics with duels soaked into their brains, who would worship anyone with a touch of romance about them. Those lunatics' verdict on my lone escapade was simple.

"... You're saying we won because of me?"

'We won because of me.'

To my ears, that was barking bullshit. Now that the duel was over and my head had cooled enough for reason to return, it really did sound like utter bullshit.

"Yes! I'm telling you, we won thanks to you!"

"No, I can't accept that."

"Sword Demon Liam! The enemy fled after witnessing your valor and martial prowess! The moment you won your duel with The Black Bride, they all turned tail and ran!"

"Does that make any sense? From the conquering army's perspective, they'd eliminated one elite fighter who'd been giving them trouble, and they'd all but swept away the defensive line and reached the walls. Why would they run just because they lost a duel—"

"The result! Is right there in front of you!"

But the more I listened, the less their words sounded like bullshit meant to mock me for passing out, and the more they sounded utterly sincere. Everyone gathered here had been thrilled and electrified by the War Duels they'd just witnessed, and they were still burning with excitement. And like the duel-crazed fighters they were, they seemed to want me to raise my sword and proudly declare victory. If I did that, they looked ready to turn ten somersaults.

"But it still doesn't make logical sense, does it?"

However...

"Let's think this through. That—"

Unfortunately, I was a crazy bastard who would keep doggedly harping on something until I was satisfied. And so, under the scorching stares of everyone around me, I kept talking without pause.

「Why don't you stop now, young descendant?」

"..."

「Keep this up, and you might die in the real world, too.」

As even Liam finally intervened to tell me to stop, one fighter hit me right where it hurt.

"You don't have any friends, do you?"

"..."

"Fuck, are you pathologically suspicious? We told you we saw and heard it ourselves, and you won't shut up. What are you, some loser asshole...?"

"Well..."

"You fuck... Forget it. Just pick a dragon artifact. Ugh, I have no idea how this bastard would've made a living if he hadn't become a fighter. Can't read a room, gets all excited and babbles about whatever he wants, no fucking social skills whatsoever..."

I couldn't find a single word to say in my defense.

Master spoke with satisfaction.

「A sage rarely seen in this age.」

"..."

「No one even told him, yet he instantly recognized that you're a loser afflicted with pathological suspicion. Such insight would impress even the sages of the Age of War.」

After that minor incident, the War Duels concluded with me choosing a dragon artifact. A few fighters and spectators who had heard my babbling did twist my nickname into “the Loser Gladiator,” but that wasn't particularly important...

Anyway.

In the now thoroughly chilled atmosphere, the dragon artifact I chose was, naturally, the Dragon Sword. I didn't even give the other items a glance. Master clicked his tongue at the Dragon Sword in my hand.

「Tsk. You won, and yet you must feel like shit.」

"Why would I feel like shit?"

「Because that treasure you received as your prize is something you already devoured in the spirit world, is it not? Since you've consumed the soul within it, that blade is nothing but an empty shell. Surely obtaining something like that would make you feel like shit?」

"Aha. So that's what you meant."

Liam was right.

I had already devoured the Dragon Sword in the spirit world. And aside from the Dragon Sword, the other dragon artifacts weren't particularly useful. After looking them over, Liam had bluntly judged them all to be ornaments made to resemble the Dragon Sword. The only power they contained was the ability to respond when 「Lantern」's power manifested and raise an army's morale. That was all. In other words, he said, every one of these dragon artifacts was useless to me now.

But...

"Sometimes I think you're far too innocent, Master."

「What?」

That was only true from Liam's perspective.

"This blade is useless to me. I've devoured every last bit of the power hidden within the name Dragon Sword. But... I'm the only one who knows that, aren't I?"

「... Don't tell me you're going to...」

"Yes."

From my perspective, this was by no means a useless blade.

"I'm going to sell it. Right now is when I can get the highest price. To everyone else, it's the sword of the hero who won the War Duels, an ancient treasure capable of summoning a majestic Guardian Dragon... Ah, I can't imagine how many steel gold coins I'll get."

「Hoho, ho, hohoho!」

A very, very “expensive” useless blade.

「How strange, young descendant. That shameless face of yours truly is like steel. To my knowledge, the Caravan family's gifts include no such thing as a Face of Steel...」

"I believe I inherited it from you, Master, my greatest ancestor!"

「Hohohohoho!」

"Hahahahaha!"

Who was calling whose face steel?

Looking at Master's shamelessness, which I still couldn't hope to match, I loudly announced that I would resell the prize I'd received for winning the 「War Duels」. Countless collectors went positively wild at the news. A few spectators and fighters asked why I would sell such a glorious prize and called me a crazy bastard, but I couldn't care less. Glory didn't put food on the table.

Fighters from the eastern continent earnestly asked me to hand it over to them out of respect for history, but naturally, I didn't listen. My terms were very simple.

I would sell it to whoever offered the most valuable thing.

And so, before the Arena's auction had even begun, the War Duels' victor started “flipping” his prize. Search the entire history of the 「Endless Duel」, and you wouldn't find a precedent. A fighter reselling his prize right there on the spot? It was sheer madness...

Of course, there was something I needed to do first.

"Arhan."

Someone had come to see me ahead of the customers.

"You're selling it? The Dragon Sword? For money?"

「The Black Bride」.

I had to weather Seolyun's anger.

* * *

"You're selling it? The Dragon Sword? For money?"

The girl, Seolyun, asked as she looked at Arhan, whose face had gone slightly pale for some reason. She had asked out of simple curiosity, but Arhan had a great deal to add.

"Ah, yes. Well, as you know, our territory isn't exactly in good shape, is it? I expect we'll need gold coins for all sorts of things going forward. And I don't know whether you're aware, but I've inherited the will of Han of the eastern continent that was contained in the Dragon Sword. Besides, before this duel began, we agreed we'd fight and the winner could do whatever they wanted with it—"

Arhan talked a lot, and to Seolyun, it looked as if he was trying desperately to find an excuse. Apparently, he felt guilty about selling a treasure of the eastern continent for money. Seeing him like that, Seolyun chuckled despite herself.

"I don't mind. Like you said, we agreed the winner could decide what to do with it."

"What? Then you really—"

"Yes. Do whatever you want."

Seolyun meant it.

The Dragon Sword? By now, she no longer felt any attachment to it.

"But, Seolyun. You said before that the Dragon Sword wasn't just an ordinary blade..."

Yet Arhan kept rambling on.

'... He really doesn't have it in him to be heartless.'

Seolyun found the sight rather funny. He kept talking about logic and promises, but the truth was that he wasn't all that rational. If anything, he was easily swayed by affection. If Seolyun were to shed a few tears and plead with him not to sell it, Arhan would come up with another reason—a reason to give up the gold coins and not sell the Dragon Sword. Even if he had to force such a reason into existence, he wouldn't let the sword go. Perhaps he would even invent some strange excuse to place the Dragon Sword in her hands. That was the kind of person the “Arhan” Seolyun knew was.

"It's really all right."

Seolyun interrupted Arhan's continued rambling. She meant it. She no longer needed the Dragon Sword. She had sought it because it held the great wisdom left behind by Han's ancestor. Because legend said it contained a true king. She had intended to ask that true king whether paradise really existed, and whether she could reach heaven. But she no longer intended to seek answers from him.

"I've gained something more valuable."

No one on the continent knew what tomorrow would bring. The answers one wanted were answers one had to seek for oneself. That was what made the world beautiful.

"So really, do whatever you want. I'm fine with it."

That was the realization Seolyun had gained along with 「Myriad Transformations」. She had no intention of relying on some ancestor. She would find out what she wanted to know herself. If there was no paradise at the end of this path, she would create one. And so she would reclaim what she cherished through her own strength.

"Really."

That was the conclusion Seolyun had reached, and the answer she had won for herself alone.

"... R-really? You really—"

Watching Arhan stammer, Seolyun simply gave him a broad grin. After smiling, she wondered whether she had always been someone who could smile so naturally...

* * *

Things hadn't gone as expected.

I had thought Seolyun would fly into a rage, but strangely, she seemed uninterested in the Dragon Sword. She wasn't pretending to be cool about it; she genuinely seemed fine. It still weighed on my mind a little, but for me, it was good news.

'I'm lucky.'

The lone escapade I'd undertaken to advance my mastery and satisfy my personal desires—my one-on-one duel with Seolyun—had ended on a picture-perfect note. Putting the Dragon Sword into my mouth and devouring it hadn't caused any trouble, either. On top of that, I'd been granted the right to take a dragon artifact, thanks to the spectators' enthusiastic support.

'I'm far too lucky.'

For some reason, even Seolyun had said she was fine with whatever I did. None of the things that had worried me had turned into problems. Instead, everything I'd done had become a stroke of good fortune. It was all going smoothly. Anyone else in my position would have danced for joy, saying that a god was helping them.

But...

'Why... am I lucky?'

As someone afflicted with a severe case of pathological suspicion, I found it deeply unsettling.

And it was a fairly reasonable suspicion.

'There's no way I'd be lucky.'

My life always went as horribly wrong as it possibly could.

That was why I felt so uneasy about how easily everything was going. It felt like the eve of a storm.

"You're from the 「Red Bank」?"

Dressed as Liam the gladiator, I received a stream of visitors. Most of them were major players: the Red Bank of the 「Black Archipelago」, which controlled all the gold on the continent; the Masters of the 「Machine Empire」, who wanted to acquire anything rare; and, beyond them, renowned capitalists and wealthy families who lived amid mountains of gold.

They offered all sorts of riches for the Dragon Sword. Some named staggering sums of gold coins. Others offered gold itself rather than coins. Still others proposed noble titles in their countries, or precious magical items that could never be obtained through ordinary channels. Every offer made my mouth water. It was hard to believe I could receive such things for a blade that was nothing but an empty shell.

Yet even as I received those dreamlike offers, I couldn't shake my unease. Why? There was no way those powerful figures were scheming just to fleece some fighter in the steel city. What they offered was precious to me, but to them, it was trifling stuff piled up in their storehouses. Even knowing that, my anxiety wouldn't go away. Why did I keep feeling uneasy? Why?

As I tried to ignore that persistent anxiety and weighed the value of the visitors' offers, a man arrived.

And...

"Hmm."

I learned that my unease—my Suspicion—had been right once again.

"It was worth coming all this way."

The moment the man appeared, my thoughts briefly stopped. With my mind and body frozen, I doubted my eyes for a moment. Was I seeing things? Had my pathological suspicion grown so severe that I was hallucinating? After questioning it over and over, I accepted that what I saw was real, that this was reality. With my mouth slightly open, I looked at the man again.

His hair was ash-colored. You could also have called it gray. But no one in the Iron Kingdom of Chervil would call that hair by either name.

"Interesting."

In the Iron Kingdom of Chervil, that hair was known as the color of iron. It symbolized the great bloodline that had reigned over this kingdom for centuries. And among those who carried that blood, there was only one young man in his twenties. Every other young bearer of iron blood had been erased from the world by that man.

"Very interesting."

A madman who had slaughtered every one of his brothers and sisters to inherit the throne. A man who employed the continent's most powerful sword as his executioner.

"It was enjoyable to watch what a lowly creature like you accomplished."

My sworn enemy.

The master of the swordmaster Carlos.

"I'll sit for a while. Naturally, you have no objection?"

The Iron Prince.

Ian Chervil had arrived as a guest.