“How many survivors are left in the arena?”

“Five... No, four. No, just those two over there.”

“Why does the number keep changing?”

“One was trembling at the killing intent filling the arena and got ground to death by the fence. The others finished themselves off fighting each other. One died in the fight, and the one left was stabbed too, so he thrashed around and croaked. That leaves those two. Whoever wins over there is the champion.”

“So all that’s left is our money-making golden boy, the Sword Demon, and the young master we’re f***ed over if so much as a hair on his head gets hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then it doesn’t matter if we step in and decide the outcome ourselves, does it? Whoever wins that fight is the champion anyway. There’s no one left to object.”

“But won’t we catch a lot of flak for that? Are you sure it’s all right? The spectators have had plenty of complaints about this Endless Duel, starting with the Racial Duels.”

“Who cares? Better than being fucked. Will you take responsibility if something goes wrong? What will you do when that f***ing powerful dipshit who stops at nothing for his son comes knocking?”

“...”

“Well, it probably won’t come to that anyway. Isn’t that young master a pretty famous swordsman? I hear everyone in the Free Cities knows how good he is. The Sword Demon may be a skilled blade, but he can’t beat the illustrious young master of Rhapsody. So we just wait. If the young master cuts the Sword Demon’s head off, we proceed as usual. But if, by some remote chance, the Sword Demon looks about to hurt our precious young master, we step in...”

“But who’s going to stop that vicious fight?”

“Don’t worry. The moment we finished checking his identity, I asked the right man to stop it. F***, arranging that at such short notice was a pain. That old man’s a real bastard to deal with, even after retirement...”

* * *

Toma Rhapsody looked at the fighter standing before him. His offer had failed.

‘Lunatic.’

He had asked what the man wanted, only to be met with demands for swordmaster Carlos’s life and the Iron Prince’s life. It was as good as a mocking rejection. Toma Rhapsody regretted it, but after being turned down so coldly, he saw no need to offer any more mercy.

This experience had taught him how vast the world was. If treasure lay hidden even in an event where the lowliest of fighters gathered, what incredible talents might he find on the eastern, northern, or southern continents? His heart was already racing.

He watched the fighter gasp for breath. Every time the man breathed, the air around him seemed to heat up. Toma recognized it as a phenomenon caused by an excessive concentration of Mana.

‘So he did have one last trick left.’

A power that affected even the surrounding environment.

Ordinarily, only a 「sword runner」 could wield such an arcane power. How someone who was merely a 「sword walker」 possessed it was a mystery, but that did not matter. Feeling the searing heat, Toma stepped back twice. Then he took a deep breath.

“A gift for waking me from my long sleep.”

As he breathed, Toma Rhapsody’s sword blurred.

Brilliant wings shone behind his black armor. There was more than one pair. One pair, two pairs, three pairs... Six wings in all made their presence known.

The three pairs of wings vibrated like a howling beast, awakening the authority of a 「sword runner」: acceleration.

When the first wings flashed, Toma’s thoughts accelerated at an insane rate. The world he saw slowed without limit.

When the second wings flashed, his body accelerated at an insane rate. Now he could move like a streak of light. As if teleporting.

When the third wings flashed, the Mana flowing inside his body accelerated. Very, very fast.

Once all three accelerations were complete, Toma slowly crouched. His stance resembled a beast preparing to run. At the same time, an arcane power entered the sword in his hand. It was one of the techniques of the Spiral Sword passed down through Rhapsody.

“Watch closely.”

Of all the techniques in the Spiral Sword, which had been modeled on the sea, this one resembled a wave. A violent sword that pulverized every enemy in a straight line, just as a great wave swept everything away.

“If you can see it, that is.”

At that moment, a technique that all but symbolized 「Rhapsody」 unfolded at Toma’s fingertips. As his wings fluttered, he even heard a wave breaking inside his head. The free sea that no one could seize. The unstoppable violence delivered by the waves of that unfettered sea. Toma became a streak of light and charged at the man.

And then.

“...?”

The fighter reflected in Toma’s eyes was changing, his form wavering. Just as Toma had become a wave, the fighter too took on another form before the oncoming violence.

“... Steel?”

* * *

I saw a burning world.

The sun was burning it. Gazing at the blazing sun, I remembered the past. The day I lost everything and was gripped by terrible helplessness. The day my people shouted at me to give up, to forget it all. That day, I lay in a garden thick with the stench of blood and looked up at the sky. Cruelly, it was clear and blue, and the sun hanging in it was far too beautiful. Back then, I had thought:

The sun had been beautiful when I was happy. It had been beautiful when I lost everything. And even now, it was so very beautiful.

And so I had wished that sun would burn this hateful, broken world to the ground. That it would burn everything I could not accept, equally, and take it all away without a trace. If a god truly existed, I wanted that god to take my loathed enemy to their side at once.

But God granted none of those wishes.

My enemy prospered with every passing day, while I grew ever more wretched. Even those who left my side failed to find happiness. Those who left the territory where they had spent their entire lives could not adjust, and many were attacked by bandits and killed during their difficult journey away. I resented everything.

I could not even blame those who had abandoned me.

I was not hard-hearted enough. I cried for a long time.

The news that people precious to me had died while leaving me, that their lives had ended unhappily, caused me anguish. Why was this world so harsh? Every novel on the continent spoke of virtue rewarded and evil punished. Every follower of the nine goddesses and seven chief gods preached good deeds and warned against sin. So why did sinners rise into the upper classes? Why did good people lose everything precious to them and die in misery? Whose side was this world on?

Doubt bred more doubt, without end.

Even after I took up a sword, my doubts never stopped. Why had my neighbor, the knight Petel, who had lived nobly all his life, had to die that way? Why had the gods refused that poor knight wings, even at the very end? Why had Petel, who had lived like a lone wolf, never been able to confess his feelings to his young lord?

Did this world run on might alone?

Did good and evil not exist?

Were virtue rewarded and evil punished, sin and punishment, Heaven and Hell merely fictions that existed in the imaginations of insignificant creatures? There was so much I could not accept. No one offered an answer. Since I could find no clear answer to anything, all I could do was swing my sword.

Until the day my blade reached this incomprehensible world. Until those with guilty consciences, those who deserved judgment, those who brought misery feared my blade. Until my enemy could no longer breathe beneath the same sky as me.

I heard a heartbeat.

My own heartbeat rang out with a thrilling force. As my whole body vibrated, I became a tongue of flame. A terrifying flame that melted everything nearby without a trace, bestowing death and pain equally on everyone. I knew instinctively. This merciless flame was the arcane power within me.

I slowly raised my head.

He was approaching from far away.

With each step, his form gradually changed. The man holding the sword looked like a wave. A wave that would sweep everything away. And before a crashing wave, a flame would waver and die.

What, then, should I do?

I did not know. I had barely managed to draw out the flame, but I did not know how to use it. Nor did I know how to survive that wave. As I stood there blankly, a rough, wrinkled, translucent hand settled over mine. Master’s hand.

「You are fortunate. The sword of Caravan is quite compatible with flame.」

As his hand moved, I instinctively followed. Slowly and heavily, as if practicing swordsmanship.

「Imagine hammering it.」

The sword slowly rose.

「Imagine striking a blazing flame with a hammer. Picture a blacksmith forging that flame. Imagine hammering it again and again, shaping the flame into a sword.」

I imagined it as Master instructed.

In that instant, I was no longer a fighter holding a sword, but a blacksmith surrendering himself to the heat of a blazing furnace. What I held was no longer a blade that harmed life, but a hammer that made tools. Holding that hammer, I followed Master’s movement and brought the raised blade down. Like a blacksmith.

「That is the first sword of steel.」

A piercing metallic sound rang inside my head.

CLANG!

Like metal striking metal, the sound snapped my eyes wide open. As my mind cleared, I found the man right before me. His sword and mine were pressed together. Binding. A position where our blades were locked.

“... You just stopped the wave—”

His voice betrayed disbelief. He was visibly flustered. I swung my sword at him. A vertical cut. The steel Master had taught me.

“Uh—”

Flustered, he hurriedly took a stance to block my sword. In the process, his wings flashed, about to unleash the authority of a 「sword runner」. But—

“...?”

The flame rising from me spread to his wings. At once, they lost their light and vanished. His body, accelerating at an unnatural speed, froze as well. Like a bird whose wings had suddenly burned away in midflight.

“Wh-what—”

His voice was almost panicked now. Without stopping, I continued my downward cut. My sword met his blade as it descended.

CLACK!

Metal struck metal. And then.

“Hup.”

CLANG!

The next instant, a piercing clang rang out, and the ground beneath his feet caved in. An insanely powerful shock wave accompanied the roar. His arms and legs trembled as he blocked my sword.

CRACK!

The black armor around his shaking limbs shattered, exposing the flesh beneath. His arms and legs were covered in livid red bruises.

“Wh-what the hell is th-this?”

He stammered, gasping for breath.

Once again, the flame rising from my body spread to him. His immense presence began to fade. This time, the 「paths」 with which he dominated our surroundings began to vanish one by one. After the power exclusive to a 「sword runner」, the power exclusive to a 「sword walker」 disappeared. As though the flame meant to reduce him to an insignificant human with nothing at all.

「An arcane power truly befitting you.」

“...”

「Well? How do you find the first steel?」

SCRAPE.

With his Mana whittled down to a pitiful level, his blade could no longer withstand mine, forged from winter steel. Its metal surface was slowly being shaved away.

「It is a sword stroke that a Caravan bearing the properties of steel can wield. A sword that embodies the principles of steel in a simple vertical cut. Heavier than any other sword on the continent.」

“...”

「This sword can contain an arcane power in a single swing. Just as you imbued your blade with the ‘flame of Suspicion’ moments ago.」

The flame of Suspicion.

Master had apparently already named my arcane power.

「However fierce Rhapsody’s waves may be, mere water cannot sweep steel away. No matter how many times the waves strike, steel simply remains where it is.」

“...”

「That is steel.」

I felt strength slowly draining from my body. The time was coming to suffer 「Lantern」’s side effects. Soon, the flame around me would vanish, and all this overflowing strength would disappear. I would no longer be able to wield this insanely powerful, heavy sword. So before that happened, I had to swing it at least once more.

“S-stop.”

For the first time, fear filled his voice.

“Stop...”

CLANG!

I swung my sword at him. He blocked as he fell, almost as if fleeing, but could not withstand the shock wave that followed the stroke. His body flew into the distance as though struck by a carriage.

THUD! CRUNCH!

He rolled across the ground. I could no longer sense any power from him as he lay sprawled there. First his wings, then his paths, and now his heart. With not even a handful of Mana left to sense, he could no longer be called a swordsman.

“U-agh...”

I followed him in silence.

Step by step, I approached and aimed my sword at him as he crawled along the ground.

I raised the blade and swung it down once more, just as Master had taught me. To finish this for good. And then.

“—!”

BOOM!

My body was hurled into the air.

When I finally came to my senses, I had flown far away and slammed into the ground. I brushed off the dust and rose. The man was trembling, clutching his head. And in front of him stood a familiar face.

“That will be enough.”

An old man with white hair.

Dressed neatly as a gentleman, with kindly eyes behind a monocle.

“The match is decided, young lord.”

Tom, caretaker of the Hall of Fame.

The very man who had written the recommendation allowing me to enter the Endless Duel stood there, holding a rapier that gleamed silver.

“I am sure Goddess Lepri is satisfied with this much.”

A gentle voice. A warm, familiar manner.

But there was nothing remotely warm about the presence he exuded.

The Tom blocking my way at this moment had not come as the caretaker of the Hall of Fame.

“So let us put away the sword and enjoy the glory of victory. Ho ho ho.”

This Tom had come as a 「sword expert」.