"Fuck!"

"What the..."

"Is that an ogre? Well, with orc bastards competing too, it wouldn't be strange if those clowns at the 「Arena」 threw in an ogre!"

Everyone who saw the fighter sliced in two with a single stroke scattered. Fair enough. With information so limited here, few fighters would recklessly attack a swordsman who had dismembered a human body in an instant. Left alone after everyone dispersed, I flicked the blood from my sword and clicked my tongue. Watching them flee, I had absolutely no intention of saying something insane like, "And you call yourselves fighters?" or "Come at me bravely!" Instead, I felt relieved.

'... It's still incomplete.'

I looked down at my hand, trembling after just one swing.

* * *

The grounds hosting the 「Martial Limits Duel」 were quite spacious. Moreover, this circular stadium had a different layout from the regular 「Arena」 stadium. Unlike the Arena's flat, open dueling grounds without any cover, this place held numerous buildings, as though a cityscape had been transplanted here. Anyone determined to hide would have no shortage of places to conceal themselves. I could understand why the fighters weren't rashly coming out to fight. If hiding somewhere safe and ambushing anyone who approached could earn them an easy victory, why throw their lives away for nothing?

Besides, there was no reason to go looking for other fighters. The condition for winning the Martial Limits Duel was to be the last one alive. There were no extra requirements about how many fighters you killed or how actively you moved around. Unless you were a battle maniac who worshipped Goddess Lepri so fervently that you wanted to hurry into a fight and get yourself killed, or an orc with a compulsive urge to charge who considered hiding from an enemy and ambushing them utterly despicable, there was no reason to fight enemies without rest.

A duel consumed resources. It drained stamina, subjected the body to punishing strain, and damaged weapons and armor. Wasting stamina in a place where you never knew when you would encounter an enemy was foolish. And getting injured in a pointless duel would be a real disaster. Among humans, only Monks and the 「Paladins」 who guarded the various temples possessed both the combat abilities to fight on the front lines and the ability to heal themselves.

Thus, unlike the slaughter at the beginning, the 「Martial Limits Duel」 settled into a relatively uneventful course after some time had passed. I went along with the prevailing trend. I had killed exactly one fighter: the fellow I'd sliced apart with a single stroke.

The moment I killed him, the nearby fighters scattered, wary of me. That must have meant the prowess I'd displayed was that overwhelming. In any case, it was fortunate for me. I didn't want to fight nonstop right from the beginning either.

I was neither a Monk nor a paladin. My heart of steel helped greatly with bodily recovery and replenishing stamina, but it wasn't all-powerful. It had clear limits. Besides, my sword powers weren't particularly suited to sustained use. Using 「Gale」 for too long strained my body, and above all, 「Lantern」 presented the greatest problem.

'... I still can't put proper strength into my right arm. Even though I used it as briefly as possible.'

Its original name was Dragon Sword.

The power within that blade, which held the will of Han's founding king, was excessively violent. The founder had attained three pairs of wings—the level of a fully accomplished 「sword runner」. In other words, it was a power I wasn't yet qualified to wield. And there was also 「Lantern's」 fundamental problem.

"Master."

「What is it?」

"Sometimes I wonder whether I was too impulsive in consuming the Dragon Sword."

「Why?」

"This blade... has no future."

Yes, the power within 「Lantern」 paid with the future to overcome the difficulties of the present. It was a power unsuited to someone like me, who still had an immeasurably long way to go.

"I'm barely managing to use it, but I worry that one wrong move will shatter my body with a single swing. Why didn't you stop me? At this rate, I'll really end up like this sword's original owner—one brief flash, then a heap of ashes."

Of course, I was gradually learning how to use it by combining the memories in the sword with Master's teachings. Still, 「Lantern's」 inherent instability made me uneasy. Hearing my concerns, Master let out a hearty chuckle. Then he spoke.

「Young descendant.」

"Yes?"

「That is precisely why it suits you so well.」

I had no idea what he was thinking.

「I assure you, no blade could provide more ample nourishment for your wings than that sword. Truly.」

Well, what could I do even if it was hard to understand?

The foolish disciple could only nod at his master's words. However abstruse and abstract they might be, Master always gave the right answers when it came to swords.

I suppressed my rising doubts. There was something more important right now than asking one question after another, wasn't there? Surviving.

"First, I should find somewhere safe."

「Do you intend to conceal yourself inside those paltry buildings?」

"That would be an option. For now, I'm going to look for a building near the center of the shrinking fence. With the available space steadily diminishing, I should secure an advantageous position in advance."

「But won't the other fighters have thought the same thing? The area near the center will be crawling with fighters preparing ambushes. Surely you don't think the fighters participating here are fools, young descendant?」

"I know. Of course there will be plenty of people hiding."

I slowly closed my eyes.

"But once the fence shrinks, even more fighters will gather. Rather than fighting in that chaos, it would be better to deal with the enemies while I'm in good condition and still have plenty of stamina."

As I closed my eyes, I returned the long winter-steel sword in my hand to my waist. The blade, reeking of blood, disappeared into its sheath.

And then:

"Besides, I think this kind of fighting favors me."

I drew the two gleaming silver daggers I had strapped near my thighs beforehand. Reflecting the light, the pair looked like a beast's teeth.

Yes, just like—

"Do you really think fighters who've fought fair duels with a referee in wide-open stadiums... are better at ambushes than an assassin from the Free City?"

Fangs.

* * *

The fence newly introduced by the Arena's planners was shrinking as time passed. It was both a device to keep the match from becoming boring and a leash tightening around the fighters' throats. Fortunately, no fighters stood around foolishly until the fence reached them and ground them to death. It wasn't shrinking quickly, and its circular shape made it easy to tell where to move. The fence was gradually contracting toward a single point.

Every fighter instinctively understood that this would be the site of the final showdown. Thus, everyone also knew that securing a position there in advance would give them an advantage. Someone who had conserved their stamina for the last fight versus someone panting from fighting without rest—the former would naturally win. For that reason, fierce battles were raging inside the black buildings at the center.

Even away from the exact center, the closer one got to it, the more fighters swarmed. The sounds of fighting for advantageous positions were deafening. With their faces and bodies shrouded in black, they tangled together, indistinguishable from one another, and fought and fought.

Fights with their lives at stake.

Naturally, they could only be fierce.

With everyone entering these duels with their own resolve, the heat of battle far surpassed anything ordinarily seen in the 「Arena」.

But some places were different.

"Hhh, hoo."

"Come out! You despicable coward—!"

A shrill shout erupted, loud enough to tear the speaker's throat. But no answer came. A dreadful silence answered instead. And silence bred anxiety and fear. The sword in the fighter's hand was trembling violently.

"Fight like a fighter, like a fighter! Not like those despicable assassins from the Free City who haven't a shred of courage! Like a fighter—!"

I cracked my eyes open and looked at the shrieking fighter.

"Yes... fight like the dauntless Sword Demon Liam!"

I barely held back the laugh threatening to burst out.

Instead, I muttered inwardly.

'The dauntless Sword Demon Liam is standing right in front of you, dumbass.'

Why did this damn nickname keep accumulating embellishments?

Could the nickname Sword Demon even go together with the word dauntless in the first place? I briefly shook my head at the way fighters tacked on whatever they pleased, then moved again to end his life.

"Hoo."

The clowns at the 「Arena」 obsessed over odd details. They hadn't simply built structures and left their interiors empty; they'd furnished them meticulously, like actual homes. The master bedrooms contained women's underwear, silk nightgowns, dresses, and the like. The living rooms held all sorts of furniture, and the small rooms had cribs and blankets. It was enough to make you think they'd uprooted a real city and moved it here. Well, thanks to that, I had more usable weapons than I knew what to do with.

『I had to know how to use everything within reach as a weapon.』

I kicked the cabinet beside me, sending it flying at him. Rather than dodging awkwardly or swinging his sword at the wooden cabinet, the fighter stood firm and glared in my direction. He trusted his specially dwarf-made helmet and armor. As expected, he was no pushover. He kept his eyes fixed on me so as not to leave an opening or lose track of my position. But—

『Blades are not the only weapons. Anything that can unsettle an enemy is a weapon.』

I had sent the cabinet flying knowing he would do that.

"... Shit—"

The wooden cabinet shattered the instant it struck his sturdy helmet. As it broke, the long, flowing clothes stored inside spilled out. Splinters and fluttering fabric tangled together and clung to his helmet. That was enough to cover its small eye openings.

I immediately pushed off the ground and sprang forward. Blinding him was no reason to relax. The enemy was a 「sword walker」. That meant he could easily sense the surrounding energies even without his sight. A 「path」 was an ability better suited to defense than offense. If he wove his paths densely to protect himself, another 「sword walker」 would find it extremely difficult to break through. One would need either a talent for exploiting tiny gaps like Seolyun's, or power on the level of a 「sword runner」, like 「Gale」. But I had no intention of using either.

Fortunately:

『I could see a hole within the paths.』

「Fang」 had one quite useful technique.

『That was the talent I possessed as a fugitive.』

『The talent to find a route of escape in any situation.』

A talent for piercing 「paths」.

A deadly attack that had once wounded even Seolyun, a heaven-born prodigy of rare caliber, though only in that first instant.

"..."

For a brief moment, I became an assassin from the Free City.

At the same time, I kicked off the ground and leaped into the air. Rather than attacking straightforwardly, I jumped, kicked off the wall, flipped once, planted my feet against the ceiling, and launched myself upside down from above. Then, putting the full force of my rotation into it, I drove a dagger into the helmet of the fighter, who would be concentrating on what lay in front of him.

CRACK

His helmet fractured, and he let out a "Ghk—" I hadn't expected a single blow to drive the dagger through his helmet, break his skull, and penetrate his brain.

The real attack came next. Struck unexpectedly on the crown of his head, the fighter jerked backward. He instinctively adopted a posture to protect his head. I thrust my foot toward the pelvis of the bending fighter. Then I pressed my knee against his lower back, seized his head with my left hand, and yanked it hard. Like a snake.

As his head wrenched backward with a creak, the neck hidden beneath his black helmet and armor was exposed. Bare flesh unprotected by metal. Without hesitation, I drove the dagger in my right hand into it.

"Urgh..."

His body trembled briefly, and then a life crumbled away with a dying scream. I shoved the fallen fighter into a corner. It hadn't been a difficult fight.

'How many have I killed now?'

I had killed quite a few fighters. To secure a safe place near the center, I was moving from building to building, fighting one battle after another. Running blindly outside carried considerable risk, so I moved slowly, keeping myself concealed. Sometimes, that brought me across fighters who were hunkering down, like the one just now. Fellows crouched with their swords aimed at the entrance.

'... He was trying to ambush people like an assassin himself, so why am I the only one he calls despicable? Typical. When he does it, it's reasonable and clever. When someone else does it, it's cowardly and vile.'

I clicked my tongue as I wiped the blood from my dagger.

I had fought several battles like this, but none had been particularly dangerous. 「Fang」 was a great help in environments with so many variables. Most fighters were skilled only with their swords and didn't know how to exploit their surroundings. I sat on the edge of a bed and rested briefly.

Being able to rest out of sight after a fight was another advantage of moving from building to building. Fighting another fighter outside would draw everyone's attention, and even if I managed to win, being ambushed immediately afterward would leave me at a severe disadvantage. Wouldn't it be best to fight in peak condition whenever possible? In that respect, I had chosen the most rational approach.

"Fortunately, it's been smooth sailing so far. I was worried I'd end up having to rely heavily on 「Gale」 or 「Lantern」, but luckily that hasn't happened."

「Yes. If you can conserve your stamina, you should.」

"... Are you really the Master I know?"

「Why?」

I tilted my head as I looked at Liam.

"Well, I thought you'd say something like, 'How can a Caravan fight that way? Face them head-on. The more steel is hammered, the harder it becomes. Keep fighting until your body breaks.'"

「Perhaps I would under ordinary circumstances. But this is the Martial Limits Duel, isn't it?」

Liam smiled in a strangely unsettling way.

「However you fight, once you reach the end, you will taste desperation in the end. That is what the Martial Limits Duel is, young descendant.」

"..."

「And another thing.」

As his laughter rang out, an intense sense of unease brushed the back of my neck. Suspicion. My superhuman senses, gathering every scrap of information from my surroundings through my 「paths」, were sending a warning. I turned my head, following it. The signal of danger came from outside the window. Beyond the window where the blue sky was visible.

「Even if you don't reach the end, desperate, harsh trials will come looking for you on their own.」

I swallowed hard.

「After all, trials rain down without cease upon those with the blood of steel in their veins.」

It seemed my easy progress ended here.

「Well? Aren't you pleased?」

Damn it.

It looked like taking the easy route was out of the question this time too.

'... Not even time to catch my breath.'

I inhaled until my lungs felt ready to burst.

'I'd better get ready.'

Instead of releasing the breath filling my lungs, I tensed and compressed it.

『Swords and spears, shields. Rusted armor and arrows raining down, embroidering the sky.』

Soon, my body began to heat up slowly.

『Boys and young men thrown onto the battlefield knowing nothing. Countless lives crumbled away, covered in dirt and submerged in blood.』

Like steel heating inside a furnace...

『They could have become stars.』

* * *

The spectator stands, which had been erupting in fervent cheers only moments before, were now silent. Everyone had their mouths shut, swallowing hard. Why? Had the 「Arena's」 planners suddenly scolded them to shut up and watch quietly?

"... What is that?"

No. The 「Arena's」 planners had no reason to spout such nonsense, and the steel city's spectators would never have listened anyway. The silence that had settled here wasn't the result of anyone's instructions. It was solely because of the sight unfolding in the middle of that vast stadium.

"Can you even call that a duel...?"

One spectator muttered in a dazed voice. Countless others agreed. Yes, what they had just witnessed couldn't be considered a duel. It was more accurately called a one-sided hunt—a massacre. Seolyun, a heaven-born prodigy who could see more than ordinary spectators, agreed with them too.

'... It's no different from setting a wolf loose among a flock of sheep.'

Seolyun had taken her seat intending to enjoy Arhan's performance without a care, but her expression had now grown rather grave. Could Arhan defeat that thing? No, this wasn't an opponent against whom victory or defeat was the question. Could Arhan... survive? As she pondered that, another thought occurred to her.

'If I were in there, could I... have survived?'

She couldn't give a definite answer.

She was confident she wouldn't be helplessly slaughtered like them. Confident she could at least put up some resistance. But she didn't know whether she could survive in the end. Even after gaining precious insight, unfurling her wings, and acquiring a deadly weapon called 「Myriad Transformations」.

Seolyun frowned and looked across the vast stadium.

There, a fighter shrouded in black, with every aspect of their appearance hidden by the special helmet and armor, was sitting atop a wall, nodding off. Even letting out long, languid yawns.

And in front of that fighter—

'Where in the world did a monster like that come from...?'

Countless fighters' corpses were piled up.

Like a mountain.

While Seolyun grew anxious, seriously fearing for Arhan's survival, a man in a corner of the stands was smiling as though thoroughly entertained.

"Oh?"

The man watching the match with interest, his swaying ash-gray hair carefully concealed, spoke. It was the Iron Prince, Ian Chervil.

"Carlos, am I thinking what I think I am?"

"Yes, I believe so. That sword belongs to the Five Great Families—more specifically, to 'them'..."

"Indeed. They may hide beneath crude helmets and armor, but how could they conceal even that gleaming bloodline? Ah, I never expected to see one here."

Ian Chervil rested his chin on his hand and grinned.

"What brings a descendant of those lazy idlers to such a lowly place?"