“Absolutely not!”

Naturally, the news that Shan intended to take Roden into the Demonlands nearly sent Kalion into a fit. Even the imposing facade he always maintained before his subordinates crumbled.

But what parent ever truly wins against their child? Roden had already resorted to running away once to get his way, so Kalion had no choice but to give in again. After several fierce arguments, he finally snapped, “Do as you please,” and shut himself away in a sulk.

Then, while Roden busied himself preparing for the expedition, he secretly summoned Shan and spoke quietly to him.

“Look after Roden for me. You know how fainthearted he is, despite his size.”

Kalion might well have resented Shan for filling his son's head with wild ambitions, but he showed no sign of it. He, too, knew that Roden had never entirely abandoned his desire to succeed as a warrior. Shan repeatedly reassured him that Roden's safety would always come first.

Meanwhile, like an excellent squire, Roden completed the preparations for their Demonlands expedition both swiftly and thoroughly. Since it was winter and they would often travel through rough country, he packed plenty of thick, sturdy cloth clothing instead of thin, soft finery. He sorted their funds, from gold and silver coins to easily carried gems for larger transactions, prepared rations consisting mainly of fine jerky made from carefully dried, high-quality meat, and had Shan's mail altered now that his recent growth had made it a little tight...

Shan, who was far from meticulous by nature, could only marvel at the sight.

“There's really a lot to pack. I was just planning to grab a spear and a sword and head out.”

“That's why you need me.”

Watching them, even Kalion acknowledged that Shan needed someone like Roden. They had steadily instilled the education expected of a knight in him, but such attention to detail came from a combination of innate temperament and lifelong habits. It could not be changed easily.

As winter drew toward its end, the two finally completed their preparations and set out through the eastern gate of the capital, Hasra.

“It feels strange, walking out openly instead of sneaking away. Somehow it makes me feel like I won't come back alive...”

“You told me not to say unlucky things before.”

“I'm just saying how I feel.”

The cold winter sun shone on the road ahead of the two young men as they set off with dreams in their hearts.

* * *

Their first destination was Shedil, a major city in eastern Pendia. A trading center linking the small domains bordering the Demonlands with the capital, Hasra, it served as a base for explorers venturing into that region. It would be the perfect place to gather information about the Demonlands or recruit companions.

“Do we need more companions?”

“Absolutely. Two novices charging straight into the Demonlands would be suicide.”

Roden launched into an account of all the difficulties he had discovered about exploring the Demonlands: bizarre monsters that were difficult to drive off by physical means, warped natural phenomena, and dangerous ruins from the old Alto era. One powerful warrior and one young man with a knack for assorted tricks could not possibly get through all that on their own.

“We'll need at least a guide familiar with the Demonlands, a mage or scholar who can read the ancient language of the Alto Empire, and a priest skilled at lifting curses and healing.”

“So at least five people.”

“Really, we'll need more fighters on top of that. However strong you are, you can't be a swordsman, a lancer, and an archer all at once. But too many people means problems with supplies and dividing the spoils... Our best bet is to find people who can fight as well as do their own jobs.”

Naturally, such people would be valuable even around the Demonlands, and would demand enormous fees. Shan groaned at the headache-inducing prospect.

“I'll leave all the recruiting and managing people to you.”

“I'll try to find the best people I can. But you might have to show them what you can do.”

“That's easy enough.”

Fortunately, Roden's thorough planning spared them any major difficulties on the journey. Occasionally they were refused lodging for being Altoan, but on other occasions they received lavish hospitality after clearing out a band of ghouls roaming nearby, or met the inhabitants of a hidden Altoan village and stayed the night.

One thing became unmistakably clear, however: monsters appeared more frequently the closer they came to the Demonlands. Ordinary animals were difficult to find at all, and the traveling merchants they occasionally encountered always gathered in groups of dozens and hired thoroughly armed mercenaries. It was as though human territories had been dotted across a land full of monsters, then connected by lines.

On the tenth day of traveling from village to city like stepping-stones, the two arrived in Shedil, the largest city in eastern Pendia.

“Not as big as Hasra, but still pretty large.”

“Already acting like a capital man, are you? If you'd seen this place first, you'd have been gaping at how huge it was.”

Shan laughed sheepishly at Roden's remark. He was right: the Shan of old would have wandered around Shedil wide-eyed like a country bumpkin. With so many monsters running rampant, there could hardly be much decent farmland. Perhaps selling monster materials allowed them to import enough grain to sustain such a population?

Perhaps because it stood so close to the Demonlands, its walls were taller and larger as well. Astonishingly, magic stones and magic circles adorned not only the gates but places all along the walls, revealing that they were enchanted.

“Doesn't anyone pry those out at night?”

“Surely they wouldn't make them that easy to remove.”

Chatting as they entered the city, the two first found an inn, unpacked, and collapsed into bed. After spending a full day lying around and recovering from the journey, they left at first light to visit one of Shedil's famous institutions: the explorers' guild.

“An explorers' guild... They only have one here, right?”

“Right. Explorers are rather different from mercenaries. I hear they appraise and buy things brought back from the Demonlands, introduce people who want to explore it to one another, and keep records of their achievements.”

Gatherings of armed warriors always posed a danger to rulers. Such a specialized guild would never have been tolerated anywhere but a city bordering the Demonlands. Accordingly, the explorers' guild was headed by an administrator dispatched directly by the lord of Shedil, making it closer to a public institution.

As they talked and walked, Shan could plainly see that more Altoans lived in the east than in the west. Whereas most Altoans in Pendia's capital had been poor, many here were neatly dressed. Several looked like mercenaries, like Kov, whom he had met before. Most astonishing of all, there were even Altoan guards. Shan's eyes widened at the sight of a guard with a horn jutting out of one side of his helmet.

“Wow, an Altoan guard. That's really something... You didn't see that even in the capital.”

“Apparently the lord here has no qualms about employing Altoans. He's one of the people we could ask to knight you later.”

Count Shedil, the city's ruler, was renowned not only as a noble but as an outstanding knight. He was quite old now, but supposedly, in his youth, he had performed such bizarre feats as wrestling with monsters and tearing off their horns.

“Of course, given Shedil's location, you'd have to give up on making your way into central politics. But that's not something we need to think about right now, so let's just keep him in mind.”

After asking directions along the way, they entered Shedil's explorers' guild. Their first impression was of noise and confusion. People dressed in every imaginable fashion were practically shouting at one another, making it difficult to tell customers from guild employees. The two looked around like country bumpkins for quite some time before finally finding a member of staff.

“Haven't seen you two before. What do you want?”

A middle-aged man with a prominent scar on one side of his face picked his nose with his little finger as he addressed them.

For the first time in a while, Roden switched back into “knight mode” and stated their business in a solemn tone. Heavily armed people were common in eastern Pendia, so few mistook him for a knight on sight here. Still, a warrior with such a dignified appearance always commanded respect.

“We've come to find companions for an expedition into the Demonlands.”

“Two rich young greenhorns, eh? It'll be hard to find you good companions with that to go on. Why not just go home?”

Not only Roden but Shan flinched at the word “greenhorns” and stared at the apparent guild employee. Few people correctly guessed Roden's age beneath his massive, muscular build and thick beard.

“What are you staring at? You look the part, but your skin's so smooth it gives you away. Anyway, got any special skills? This one looks like fighting's all he's good for. Is the little fellow your squire?”

“I can pull my own weight... But this fellow here is exceptionally skilled. Even a knight wouldn't stand a chance against him.”

The guild employee looked at Shan incredulously. The fellow beside him was so tall that he made the boy look even smaller, but Shan stood only a little over 160 centimeters. What showed of his body was well trained, but rather slender...

“That little brat? You think knights are a joke?”

“I've never thought that. I once trained to become one myself.”

“Don't tell me he's a mage?”

“No.”

Shan stood quietly beside Roden, watching his battle of wills with the guild employee. After they exchanged stares for several seconds, the employee spoke first.

“Fine, whatever. I'll put that down for now. Verifying explorers' strength isn't our job. One big, boastful greenhorn and one brat who claims he's stronger than a knight...”

“Incidentally, my friend is Altoan. We'd prefer people who have no objection to Altoans, if possible. They needn't follow the New Faith.”

“You really do want everything! What sort of companions are you after?”

“A guide who knows the Demonlands, a mage or scholar capable of appraising Alto artifacts, and a priest who can defend themselves.”

“You're out of your mind. You won't find talent like that in one out of a hundred Demonlands explorers!”

“A warrior stronger than a knight would be just as rare.”

The employee gave him a pitying look that plainly said, What idiot would believe that bullshit? Roden merely grinned and promptly climbed onto a nearby barrel.

“Everyone, attention!”

His voice was so loud that the noisy guild hall briefly fell silent. Several nearby explorers covered their ears and glared at him, but Roden paid them no mind and continued.

“This boy beside me and I are recruiting companions to explore the Demonlands! My companion is an invincible warrior, so powerful that even knights wouldn't dare face him!”

“Cut the bullshit and fuck off, you moron!”

“You loudmouthed pig!”

“Shut up! You nearly burst my eardrums!”

“Get off my barrel this instant!”

As one might expect of people in such a rough trade, a torrent of crude abuse erupted at once. Unfazed, Roden rummaged in his pocket, pulled out a pouch of gold coins, and shook it. The jingling and its unmistakable heft instantly silenced the people hurling insults.

“To prove it, I'm putting up a hundred gold coins! We'll hold one-on-one bouts with wooden swords in the square outside. Anyone who manages to land even a single hit on this boy wins the entire sum!”

“Oh!”

“I'll do it!”

“I'll beat him black and blue!”

The explorers who had been cursing moments before now watched with eyes gleaming with interest and greed. He might be wearing mail and carrying a sword, but wasn't he plainly a boy smaller than an ordinary man? They didn't even have to win. Just take a hit and land one in return, and a hundred gold coins would be theirs? This was money for the taking!

Even those with little confidence in their swordsmanship cheered at this entertaining turn of events, until someone with a little more sense asked about the terms.

“Hold on. What if we lose?”

“Then you lose! It's only natural to lose against a prodigy stronger than a knight! Just remember, if you get your head cracked open or a bone or two broken by a wooden sword, that's your own responsibility!”

To explorers who risked their lives fighting monsters and roaming the Demonlands, that was effectively no condition at all. As everyone clamored to go first, the guild employee scowled.

“Damn it, what a fucking racket! What possessed you to stir up this commotion...?”

“What I do outside is my own business, isn't it?”

“Well, you're not wrong.”

With a groan, the guild employee shook his head as though washing his hands of the whole affair.

* * *

The square near the explorers' guild was usually fairly quiet. Naturally, when armed people poured into it, the city guards noticed the disturbance and came to restore order. Roden offered them a few silver coins as a bribe, insisting that this was not a sword fight, merely some light sparring with wooden swords.

Once they heard the details, several of the higher-ranking guards looked intrigued.

“Sounds entertaining. Can we join in?”

“Pardon? Well, there's no reason you can't...”

And so, with several guards somehow joining the contest themselves, there was no one left to stop it. While the explorers who had streamed out of the guild formed a circle to create an arena, Shan and Roden spoke quietly inside it.

“You really went through with it.”

“Well, you said you were confident.”

“It won't matter if I slip up and take one hit, right?”

“Hey.”

“Don't worry. One-on-one, even Feonil couldn't hit me.”

At the mention of the Black Lance himself, Roden chuckled and clapped Shan on the back. Meanwhile, after considerable wrangling among the explorers and guards, the first challenger stepped forward.

“Hmm. Do we say ‘Ready, begin!’ before we fight?”

The man muttering this was a giant even taller than Roden, so large that his wooden sword looked small in his hand. He stood at least two meters tall, perhaps more. Judging by the murmurs around them, he was something of a local celebrity. Indeed, several guards were retired explorers, and if even they had respectfully stepped aside for him, he must have had a reputation to match.

“Once we both consider it started, it's—”

Before Shan could finish answering, the man launched a surprise attack, swinging his wooden sword at Shan's head with enough force that a bad hit could easily have burst his skull and killed him. Several fainthearted spectators gasped or screamed.

To Shan, of course, the attack was as painfully slow as a crawling earthworm. However large or strong they might be, people who didn't know how to move properly were no different from toys or stuffed dolls to him.

Shan leaned slightly aside and lightly raised his wooden sword. The two wooden weapons crossed, and a dull impact rang out. Struck squarely on the chin, the giant's eyes rolled back and his legs gave way beneath him.

“B-Bear Hunter Pakan went down in one hit!”

“From a wooden stick like that?”

“I didn't even see the brat swing.”

The giant's nickname, Bear Hunter, came not from hunting an actual bear, but a monster called an owlbear. This enormous creature, with an owl's head and a bear's body, was far more powerful than an ordinary bear. For a warrior strong enough to kill one and make it his namesake to fall to a single blow was a truly momentous event.

Only then did the spectators realize that Shan was more skilled than they had imagined, and they swallowed nervously. It should have been obvious: if he truly were the ordinary boy he appeared to be, they would never have proposed such a wager.

“Surely... it wasn't all bluster?”

As someone murmured in a trembling voice, one of the guards stepped forward as the second challenger. He was a former explorer, a middle-aged man of about forty.

“Go easy on me, lad.”

“My name's Shan.”

“Right, Shan. Do be gentle. Broken bones don't mend so well at my age.”

Despite his self-pitying words, the guard was quite skilled. His grip and swings were somewhat awkward, suggesting that a sword was not his usual weapon, but his sense of distance and the force behind his attacks were fairly sharp. By ordinary standards, of course.

Shan leisurely caught and deflected the guard's wooden sword, then lightly tapped the iron plate protecting the back of his hand. After three consecutive taps—one, two, three—the guard realized the gulf between them and backed away, sweating.

“Whew... I'm no match for you! I surrender.”

“What? Didn't he still have a chance?”

“No guts at all.”

Naturally, Shan treated the guards more gently than the explorers to avoid antagonizing those in authority. Beating up an explorer was merely a minor squabble between roughnecks, but an explorer beating a guard unconscious, wager or not, would damage their prestige. Offended guards might order the crowd to disperse.

Shan continued in the same fashion, striking the explorers on the chin, temple, crown, or neck to knock them unconscious or disable them, while showing the guards just enough to make the difference in skill clear. One of them kept flailing away despite his obvious inability to win, but after Shan threatened his eyes with the wooden sword several times, he withdrew of his own accord.

With each bout, Shan gained a fresh appreciation of the strength Darkal's training had given him. Warriors of this caliber had been no match for him before, but only because he compensated for his lack of strength by striking vital points and using agile movements to exploit openings.

Now, by contrast, he could meet and knock aside his opponents' weapons like a proper swordsman, and sometimes even overpower them. His relatively low weight still made it a little difficult to hold his ground, but spirit could solve that, so it was hardly a serious problem. If the Shan of old had merely been an excellent killer, he could now rightly call himself a true warrior.

After he had dispatched more than ten opponents, the next man stepped up fully armored, from mail to a helmet that covered his face. His transparent plan was to endure the blows and somehow land a hit, reasoning that a mere wooden sword could not pierce his armor. The spectators jeered, but since the original terms had placed no restrictions on armor, it was not cheating.

“Raaagh!”

Shan burst out laughing as the man charged with both arms spread, making no attempt to engage his sword. Clearly, he meant to take a hit, grab Shan, and simply touch him with his wooden sword.

Standing still as he waited for his opponent to approach, Shan infused his wooden sword with spirit and lightly thrust at the man's helmet. Had he imbued it with the will to pierce, the man would have been skewered on the spot. Fortunately, Shan's will instead amplified the force of the impact—just enough to avoid breaking his neck.

The tremendous impact brought his opponent to a halt with a deafening crash. Watching him, Shan raised his wooden sword high and swept it downward. This time, unlike before, he imbued it with the unmistakable will to cut.

From the helmet on his head to his mail shirt and trousers, all the man's armor split open, exposing what lay beneath. The attack had delicately avoided both his underlying clothes and his skin. By this point, anyone but a fool could recognize what they were seeing.

“... That's spirit, isn't it?”

“Of course it is, idiot.”

“He sliced through mail that easily with a wooden sword? Not even a metal weapon?”

Though uncommon, ordinary soldiers, mercenaries, and explorers sometimes awakened spirit as well. Repeatedly training the body to the point of collapse and recovering was merely a reliable method of awakening it. After decades of fighting through one brush with death after another, some of those blessed with talent and luck inevitably learned how to transcend the body through the mind.

But the spirit displayed by the boy before them was plainly on an entirely different level from those people's crude efforts. More importantly, to toy with over ten warriors without taking a single hit, then cut through armor alone while avoiding the clothes and skin beneath it—wasn't that pure swordsmanship?

The spectators looked appalled as they realized that the boy before them truly was a monster equal to a knight, perhaps even far beyond one. Roden loudly asked several more times whether anyone else wished to participate, but naturally, no one volunteered. In that moment, Shan's name became deeply etched in the minds of those gathered to explore the Demonlands.